


Take from the Rich

by BazineApologist



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo: Space Darcy, But Nothing Scary, But the characters are critical of it, Eventual smut WITH feelings, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Passing reference to Rey/past sugar daddies, Phone Sex, Rey displays Lizzie Bennet-levels of prejudice, Rey doesn't believe in Love... yet., Rey is an Economic Justice Warrior, Robin Hood AU, Rose is a Socialist, Secondary Stormpilot Relationship, Smut without feelings, So many anti-capitalist rants, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby AU, The Resistance is a Economic Development Non-Profit, Whiskey Dick, conspicuous consumption, lying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-03-02 09:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 59,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazineApologist/pseuds/BazineApologist
Summary: It started as a way for love-cynic Rey to date without strings, but one bad date with a potential sugar daddy and everything changes for her.The rich don't deserve so much more than the rest of us! But Rey has a plan. She'll take on income inequality, one sugar daddy at a time.When Kylo Ren messages her about becoming his sugar baby, she knows he's the perfect mark. He's filthy rich, arrogant, and eager to spoil. Rey can't wait to bleed him dry...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [Trixie (TourmalineGreen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineGreen/pseuds/TourmalineGreen) and [K8 (bless_my_circuits)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bless_my_circuits) for looking over this chapter and providing me valuable feedback!

“Uh-oh. You’re home early. I guess it didn’t go well?”

Rey closed the front door of the apartment she shared with her best friend, Finn, kicked off her shoes, and immediately reached up to unhook her bra and maneuver it out from beneath her shirt. “That’s a bit of an understatement,” she huffed, shoving her bra into her bag before dropping them both by the door. 

She moved over to the couch, plopping down between Finn and Finn’s boyfriend, Poe, and grabbing a slice of pizza from the box sitting open on their rickety IKEA coffee table. 

“I’m so hungry,” said Rey through a mouth full of food. 

“Scavenger,” Finn muttered under his breath. 

Poe just laughed good-naturedly, patting her on the knee. “Hey, it’s my pizza and I’m happy to share with Rey. Feeding starving college students is good karma,” he said.

“I thought Snap was taking you to dinner,” said Finn, getting up to rearrange his position on the couch. He nudged Rey over lightly so he could cuddle up to his boyfriend again.

“I mean, kind of? Dinner is a very generous description of our date. He took me to the tapas place on Center Street.”

“Oh, that place seems really upscale! Really classy!”

“And really expensive,” Rey said. “As soon as we were seated, Snap told me all about how he was a male feminist...”

“I mean, that’s a little odd. Not the best conversation starter, but—”

“And that chivalry was just another word for benevolent sexism...”

“Rey! You literally told me that exact thing last time I tried to open a door for you—”

“And because of that, he would never insult me by trying to pay for my food...”

“Uh....”

“Which would have been fine… if he had picked a less expensive restaurant. I had a mild panic attack looking at the prices on the menu! I ended up just ordering the cheapest thing...”

“...”

“And he ordered the exact same. Which seemed a little odd, since I thought the whole point of tapas was the variety. I expected we would share. Anyway, it seemed odd… until the waitress brought our check and Snap pulled out a Groupon...”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. It was for buy one get one free...”

Poe buried his face in his hands while Finn asked, hesitantly, “Did he at least offer to split the discount with you?”

Rey laughed hollowly. “Of course not. But he did ask me to come home with him.” 

Poe groaned dramatically, throwing himself into Finn’s lap. “I am so sorry, Rey! The next time I set you up, I will absolutely screen for faux male feminist fuckbois. Snap just always seemed really cool at work. I mean, he works for a non-profit. I thought that meant something!”

“Oh, Poe. There will never be a next time, because I’m swearing off dating,” she declared.

“Rey!” cried Finn. “You can’t just give up!”

“I can and I have. I’m just so sick of the guessing and the mind games and the manipulations. You know, last week Kaydel told me that if I answer a text too quickly, I’ll look needy. I have to hold back my reply so that he’ll think I’m… what? Popular? Disinterested? Busy? She actually suggested I set a reminder on my phone for when enough time had passed that I could answer! Why??”

“Rey, I know you. You’re not going to be able to swear off men. Eventually, you’ll need, ahem, a release,” said Finn.

“I never said I was swearing off men. I said I’d sworn off dating them. I’ll just go to a bar or download Tinder or post a personal ad or something. ‘Will trade company for tapas and white wine.’”

“Hang on,” said Poe, perking up suddenly, “that last part isn’t such a bad idea.” 

“Which part? The personal ad?” Finn asked, gawping at his boyfriend.

Rey laughed again, an empty, bitter, laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “I was kidding, Poe. I’m not going to prostitute myself for tapas.”

“I’m not suggesting you prostitute yourself,” he defended. “Although, catch up, Rey! There’s nothing wrong with sex work as long as it’s consensual! What I’m suggesting is that you explore the idea of a more transactional relationship. You’re clearly looking for something where everyone’s expectations are set up upfront. And it kind of seems like you’re not looking for anything with too many feelings?”

Poe looked pointedly at Rey, awaiting a response. Rey, however, didn’t want to admit the depth of her cynicism in front of Finn, so she remained still. When Poe didn’t stop staring she gave him a curt nod.

Finn sighed loudly and Rey flinched.

Rey and Finn had both grown up in the foster care system. Neither of them had ever found a long-term placement, let alone the supposed unconditional love of a family. So, by the time they ended up in the same group home as teenagers, they had both been pretty jaded. Rey, especially, had had an almost pathological need for independence. She didn’t trust anyone but herself. It had taken Finn months to scale her emotional walls. Eventually, though, she had relented, and it had quickly become Rey and Finn against the world. 

But Rey’s circle had never really expanded beyond Finn, and Finn’s circle had never really expanded beyond Rey. Rey didn’t need anyone else. Finn was enough. (Well, Finn plus the occasional hookup… he couldn’t meet _every_ need.) 

Once Finn had met Poe, however, things had quickly changed. Finn had fallen in love with the other man, and was now desperate for his best friend to share in his happy delusion.

Rey wasn’t even sure she was capable of falling in love. And she certainly wasn’t eager for it.

“Well, there you go, then,” Poe said proudly, spreading his arms wide like he had just solved the complicated mystery that was Rey’s love (if you could call it that) life.

Rey and Finn just stared at him blankly. Finally, Finn said: “You know we have no idea what you’re talking about, right?”

“A sugar daddy. I’m suggesting she look for a sugar daddy.”

“WHAT??” squealed Finn.

“What?” asked Rey, much smaller.

“Oh, come on! It’s exactly what you’re looking for! You ask for exactly what you want. He asks for exactly what he wants. If your wants line up, you guys negotiate and come to a mutually beneficial agreement. And, either one of you can end the arrangement at any time without having to worry about the other’s feelings. Because there aren’t any. It’s perfect!”

“Interesting how you entirely glossed over the part where a much older man gives her handbags and Louboutins in exchange for sexual favors,” quipped Finn.

“Interesting how you present that bonus like it’s a bad thing,” countered Poe. “How is it any worse than picking up some rando in a bar or swiping right on Tinder? At least this way she gets something out of it besides a disappointing orgasm.”

Rey blushed.

“If you, even for a moment, think that Rey would be swayed by some overpriced luxury items, then you don’t know her at all! What do you even know about sugar daddies, anyway?”

“A lot! You know how I went out for drinks last week with a bunch of the crew from Resistance?” Poe asked, referring to the economic development non-profit he (and Snap) worked for. 

“Yes,” replied Finn. 

“Well, we went to Maz’s, of course, and Bazine Netal was there, tucked away in a dark corner with some huge dude in an expensive suit.”

Finn groaned. “Who’s Bazine?” asked Rey, but Poe continued on like she hadn’t said anything. “Should I know who Bazine is?” she stage-whispered to Finn.

“After the guy left she came up to the bar and we started talking over appletinis—” Finn snorted, and Poe shot him a glare “—and she started telling me about this website she’s on. For sugar babies. That’s what she says they’re called,” he offered as an aside. “She’s only been on the website for a few weeks, and she’s already found a guy! His name was Grubblyplank or… Raegar or… something? Oh!” Poe snapped. “Grummgar! His name was Grummgar. He owns like a mercenary firm or something? Supposedly very well-known in shady rich-people circles. Probably high up in the Illuminati. Anyway, the guy pays her like three grand a month, just to go out once or twice a week.”

Rey cringed at Poe’s flippant description of Grummgar and his dealings. He sounded like the personification of all the things Rey hated most about the world. War and greed and—

“Okay, it makes perfect sense why _Bazine Netal_ would be on a website like that, but you’ve yet to explain why Rey should be,” said Finn.

“It’s like I said earlier: If the relationship is an arrangement, and everyone is fulfilling their part of the arrangement, then she doesn’t have to worry about ‘mind games’ or ‘feelings’ or any of the other relationship stuff that she finds so off-putting.”

Both men were quiet for the first time in quite a while, so Rey took the opportunity to ask: “Oh, are you two finally both done talking about me? Do I get to weigh in now?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm

“Sorry,” the boyfriends muttered in unison, looking sufficiently chastened. 

“Tell me more about this website…”

“REY!”

“Calm down, Finn. I’m just curious! I’m not saying I’m going to do it, I’m just saying I want more information. Poe makes some interesting points about the advantages of an ‘arrangement’ over a regular relationship.” She turned to Poe. “I mean, obviously I wouldn’t want somebody as morally bankrupt as Grubblyplank, but tell me more. How old was he? And what did he look like?”

“He wasn’t old, but he was definitely ugly! I bet they’re not all like that, though. Bazine says the older or uglier the man, the more money he has to offer to get a sugar baby. Since you’re more interested in the arrangement than the compensation, we can be selective. Only agree to meet up with guys that aren’t totally disgusting and don’t actively make the world a worse place!” 

Poe reached into the messenger bag stashed underneath the coffee table and pulled out his work laptop. He switched to an incognito browser and typed in a website. A picture of smirking, suited man with a beautiful woman on either arm popped up on the screen. 

Rey heard Finn scoff from the other side of the couch. She could practically feel the disapproval emanating off of her best friend. Rey wasn’t crazy about the website design either, but she couldn’t deny that a lot of what Poe said really did make sense.

It wasn’t about the money. Sure, she had been annoyed by Snap’s cheapness on their date, but it had been more than that too. Rey was _tired_ of going out on date after date, pretending like there was any chance she might feel something. Some of the guys she went out with were probably earnestly looking for love, and it felt really dishonest to Rey to waste their time when she knew she could never return that feeling. The thought of having some companionship without having to pretend like she felt anything deeper sounded like a relief! And if turning her companionship into a commodity was the way for her to achieve that, she was open to it.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if he had a little money,” Rey shrugged, thinking again of Snap and his Groupon. “Saying that doesn’t make me anti-feminist, right? Or a traitor to the Resistance? Because I would definitely want it to be a fair exchange.”

“As a representative of the Resistance, I say you’re fine. Until Leia Organa figures out how to tear down the capitalist system and replace it with something better, we can only work with what we’ve got. Anyway, can a poor man even be a sugar daddy?”

A quick google search told them he could not. But he did have his own special nickname: Splenda daddy. As in, a man who strives to be a sugar daddy, but doesn’t have the funds to pull it off. Non-materialistic Rey thought she might be open to a Splenda daddy, as long as he had _something_ to offer her.

“Oh, look at that guy!” cackled Poe, pointing to the picture of an incredibly unattractive blob of a man. “Jabba,” he read aloud. “Definitely perfect for Rey!”

Rey grabbed the nearest throw pillow and swung it at his head. 

Rey and Poe spent the next couple of hours building Rey a sugar baby profile and scrolling through men, while Finn offered occasional commentary. Despite his long-suffering tone, Rey suspected he might actually be enjoying himself. He had been very helpful when they were picking selfies.

Near the end of their session, Rey even received her first message. It was from a man named D.J. who immediately offered her a long-term arrangement and a generous monthly allowance, sight unseen, if she would only send him all her bank account information (so he could deposit her allowance, of course). Poe’s online “Sugar Bowl” vocab guide, helpfully identified him as a scamming “salt daddy.” 

“Let’s just go to bed,” Rey declared when Finn began to snore softly. “We can pick this up another time.”

“Tomorrow. We’ll try again tomorrow,” Poe yawned. He glanced over at his sleeping lover, and a soft, dopey smile permeated his face. 

Rey looked too, if only to see exactly what had prompted such a goofy expression. Finn was sprawled-out awkwardly on the arm of their couch, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open.

 _Being in love is so dumb,_ Rey thought. Poe was staring at Finn like he was the human personification of the heart-eyes emoji. Finn was Rey’s very favorite person in the world, but when she looked at Finn all _she_ felt was a vague desire to misuse a can of spray cheese. She could just imagine Finn’s reaction, waking up to a mouthful of the pressurized, processed cheese product…

“Well, I’m going to take my man to bed,” Poe interrupted. Rey watched as Poe half-dragged, half-carried Finn off to the bedroom. 

She got up as well and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As she brushed her teeth she thought again about the sugar daddy dating website. She still wasn’t sure that sugaring was exactly what she was looking for, but it sounded much better than another date with Snap. She grabbed her phone and downloaded the sugar daddy app before resuming her bedtime routine.

Once she was snuggled comfortably in her bed, Rey pulled up the app and began her mindless scrolling. 

 

* * *

 

Rey woke up the next morning to her phone on her face and a message from a potential sugar daddy in her inbox. 

_Good morning,_ the message read. _I liked your profile and would be interested in getting to know you better, preferably in person. I see you’re a student at Chandrila. I recently made an endowment to their business school, but I may be interested in making a further investment in the student body, if you catch my meaning. If this is something that would be amenable to you, please let me know._

Rey scrunched up her nose. It certainly wasn’t the worst opening message she’d ever received. She’d briefly tried Tinder, and the men on that site seemed to favor unsolicited dick pics over blustery openers like this one. But the sender of the message still came off a bit stiff for Rey’s tastes. And pretentious. Casually dropping the line about the endowment, as if she would be impressed...

Still, in the interest of keeping an open mind, Rey clicked on his profile. _Oh!_ The man in the picture looked quite young. Right around thirty, she guessed. Practically an infant among the men on this site. And he was attractive! Maybe not in the most traditional way, but there was definitely something about him that intrigued her. 

Rey read the message again and, for some reason, found herself much more agreeable the second time around. 

She clicked the reply button and started composing her response. “Okay, Armitage,” she muttered to herself as she typed away. “Let’s see what we have to offer one another…”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey meets Hux for their date. It goes exactly as well as a Reylo would expect. 
> 
> Rey finds a new motivation for sugaring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for betaing!!
> 
> This is another chapter without Kylo, but I promise he appears in the next one and sticks around! 
> 
> I also updated the tags to basically say "I will update the tags as I go." Don't worry, Ben and Rey having exes will probably be the worst of it. If something upsetting comes up, I will include a chapter note with the updated tag.

“That’s not what you’re wearing on your date, right?” Poe blurted out the moment his eyes landed on Rey. 

“Um… yeah?” she replied, squeezing past Poe and Finn making dinner in their tiny apartment kitchen to snag one of the expired granola bars Poe had dropped off last week. Apparently, some asshole had donated a whole pallet to the Resistance’s food bank, not knowing (or, more likely, not caring) that the Resistance couldn’t distribute expired food. It was a liability issue, not to mention the indignity of sticking poor people with products well past their best-by date. 

Poe and his co-workers, not particularly worried about their own dignity, had divvied the snacks up between them, Poe passing several boxes on to Finn and Rey. 

As he watched Rey rip open a bar, Poe sighed dramatically. Rey stiffened but otherwise continued shoving the granola bar into her mouth.

Rey was meeting up with Armitage that evening for the first time. They had exchanged just a handful of messages over the week, mostly related to scheduling their date, so Rey still hadn’t gotten a good sense of the potential sugar daddy. Armitage had insisted that it was better to get to know each other face to face rather than waste time messaging. He joked that he tended to come off a bit stiff in writing. Rey, agreeing with that assessment, had been reassured by the admission and readily agreed to meet.

“REY!” Poe told her, pausing his vigorous whisking. “This man is rich and handsome. You can’t go meet him in a t-shirt and jeans!”

“Why not?” Rey asked once she had chewed the stale bar enough to swallow. “I thought I looked good.” She was, after all, wearing her nicest t-shirt and her darkest wash jeans. 

“You do look good, Peanut,” Finn told her, looking up from the pan of bacon he was frying. “But maybe you want to consider wearing something a bit more… formal?”

“Exactly. How do you expect to hook him in THAT? You look like an elementary school gym teacher--”

“POE!”

“A very cute gym teacher that everyone has a crush on!” Poe clarified. Finn slowly lowered the tongs he had raised up in a threatening gesture at his boyfriend’s words.

“…except maybe a 30-something millionaire looking for a sugar baby.”

“POE!” Finn cried again.

“I’m not trying to _hook_ him,” Rey insisted, wiping her sticky hand on her cotton tee. “It’s just a first date. We’re meeting up to see if we like each other and if we might be interested in negotiating an arrangement. I think it’s important that I look like _me_ for that!”

“There’s looking like yourself and then there’s looking like you couldn’t be bothered,” Poe told her seriously. “Right now you look like you couldn’t be bothered. But don’t worry. As soon as we’re done with this, we’ll fix you!”

“Fix me?” cried an outraged Rey. “What exactly is wrong with me? My clothes are clean, I showered, I even put on mascara.” 

“You can’t be serious,” Poe said, a disgusted look on his face

“Finn, defend my honor!”

“Poe, be nicer to Rey! She’s at least on the level of a middle school English teacher, in terms of style! But also, Rey, maybe Poe has a point?”

“Aha! Thank you! We’re going to have some much fun making you over!” 

“We?” Finn asked, suddenly wary.

“Of course! It’s date night. I thought it could be a fun couples bonding activity?” 

“Actually,” added Rey, “I could use you intervening before he turns me into a Kylie Jenner clone.” 

“Rey, if I wanted you to look like Kylie Jenner, I would have started several hours ago, and I would have come with a lip kit, waist trainer, and a ring light. Now help me grate this cheese so we have enough time to make you presentable.” 

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Finn’s and Poe’s quiche lorraine was cooling on the counter, and Poe had officially deemed Rey “minimally presentable” for her date.

“You look beautiful, Peanut,” Finn told her, glaring daggers at his boyfriend.

“Are you absolutely positive you won’t wear the black dress and heels?” Poe tried for the millionth time.

“My funeral dress and interview heels? Absolutely not.”

“Fine, fine,” Poe relented, stepping back to give her one last critical look. She watched his eyes flit over each carefully curated element, from her loose hair down to her strappy metallic sandals. 

The only thing Poe had let her keep from her first-draft date outfit was her skinny jeans. Her t-shirt had been replaced with a silky blue tank Poe found buried deep in the back of her closet. Rey and Finn had laughed upon seeing the top, remembering it had been a peace offering from a former foster sister. Much different from Rey’s usual style and barely ever worn. 

She fingered the familiar ink stain near the bottom hem, the result of her foster sister’s sloppy removal of a security tag. Luckily the ink had been close in hue to the top, and the stain was barely noticeable.

Poe had insisted the neckline of the top would show off her “itty bitties” to their best advantage. Rey had just rolled her eyes at the backhanded compliment, knowing Poe didn’t mean any harm. And it wasn’t like Rey wasn’t intimately aware of the state of her chest. Anyway, Finn was like a brother to Rey, which made Poe her boyfriend-in-law, or something. Rey didn’t know a lot about family dynamics, but she was pretty sure in this case good-natured teasing was mandatory.

“You’re ready,” Poe told her reverently as he concluded his final assessment. He handed her her very smallest and least practical bag (a vegan, leather-alternative birthday present from Kaydel) and stepped away.

It was Finn’s turn now. “You know it’s not too late to change your mind,” he told her. “If you show up and he’s terrible or he doesn’t look like his picture, you can just leave.”

“It’s just a first date. I’m not gonna pull an Anna Nicole Smith. Promise. Not without talking to you first.”

“I know,” he laughed, giving her a squeeze, careful not to mess up her makeup, “but be safe anyway. Stay in public. Watch your drink. Don’t let him pressure you into anything, even if he is rich and handsome. And anyway, he’s not even that handsome.” 

“Disagree,” chimed in Poe with a wink.

 

* * *

 

When Rey finally made it across town to the upscale hotel bar they’d agreed to meet at, she was twenty minutes early. Nobody resembling Armitage was anywhere in sight, so Rey sat down at the bar and ordered a single shot of tequila, for liquid courage.

Rey was nervous. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Would it be like a regular first date? She’d done a lot of online research prior to this meeting, but the information she’d found was often conflicting. For example, one website had told her she absolutely could not accept money for the first meeting, even if her potential daddy offered. Accepting money turned her date into a pay-per-meet, and PPMs were prostitution, plain and simple.

A different community, however, suggested that daddies who didn’t offer gifts or tokens for the first meeting were suspect, and sugar babies should have their guard up, just in case their date was a Splenda or Salt Daddy in disguise.

Rey didn’t really think it was fair to expect compensation for a get-to-know-you drink, but she also didn’t want to be an easy target for a scammer. 

Armitage had seemed to hint in his last message that he had something for her, a token of his good faith and significant means. As the bartender slid a tequila shot toward her, Rey contemplated whether or not she would accept the gift. Would it make her seem rude or ungrateful to refuse? Would it make her seem rude or money-grubbing to accept?

Rey grabbed for her shot, feeling her nerves spike suddenly. She quickly knocked the tequila back before relaxing against her stool. She’d play it by ear, she decided, as the bartender cleared her empty glass. 

A few minutes later, a tall, thin man with a shock of orange hair appeared by the hotel elevators. Rey knew it was Armitage instantly. His hair was distinct. As she watched him cross the lobby, heading toward the bar, Rey wondered why he was coming from the inside of the hotel. The outside entrance was on the opposite side of the lobby. 

Before she had time to give it much thought, though, he approached, recognition clear on his face. _Oh,_ Rey thought, a pleased blush spreading across her cheeks, _he looks_ just _like his picture._

“Armitage?” she asked, getting to her feet.

“Please, call me Hux,” a slightly nasal voice responded. “Everyone does.”

“Alright, Hux,” Rey responded, testing the name out on her tongue. She liked it less than Armitage. “I’m Rey. Rey Niima.” She held out her hand to him.

He met her with a firm shake. Just the right amount of pressure. Rey liked that. What she didn’t like was the way _Hux_ seemed to be appraising her, his smile bordering on sneering.

It felt different from the looks Poe had been giving her all evening. She’d been annoyed as Poe made her stand and twirl while he nitpicked, but she’d never felt like an object under Poe’s warm gaze. She definitely felt like one before Hux.

“Shall we move to a table?” Hux asked, ushering her toward a lounge table without waiting for Rey’s response. When they were seated, Hux snapped in the direction of a nearby hotel worker and Rey actually felt her hackles raise.

“I’d like a dirty martini. And she’ll have a glass of sherry. And can we get a couple of menus, please?” Hux asked the unfortunate young woman who heeded his call.

Rey opened her mouth to protest the order, but neither Hux nor the woman (was she even a waitress?) provided her an opening. Rey _hated_ sherry. She wanted Chardonnay. 

“I’m very sorry sir, but we don’t serve our full menu in the bar and lounge, only in the dining room. If you’d like, I’d be happy to try and arrange you a table over there.”

“Hmm, but my date is really enjoying the atmosphere in here,” Hux pushed. Rey watched him carefully. It wasn’t rude, per se. His voice was low and measured, and he had a pleasant smile plastered on his face, but there was something flashing behind his eyes that made Rey nervous. 

The other woman must have sensed the same tension. “I’m so sorry, sir,” she told him even more apologetically. “As I mentioned, I would be very happy to—”

“Get me the concierge, please,” Hux cut her off, the smile never leaving her face.

“I really don’t mind moving to the dining room,” Rey offered. “Or you know what? I’m not even hungry. We could just have our drinks and—”

“Nonsense. It shouldn’t be a big deal to serve us in the lounge. I just need to talk to someone with a bit more competence and authority.”

Rey noticed the young woman’s jaw tighten in response to the words. Hux seemed oblivious. He reached out as if to shake the woman’s hand and curtly reminded her, “The concierge, please.”

When he pulled his hand away, the woman glanced down briefly and let out a surprised squeak. Rey caught just a flash of green before the woman closed her fist discreetly. “Of course sir! Right away,” she said eagerly, practically running out of the lounge.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Hux said, shaking his head as if the employee had just caused the hubbub, and not Hux himself. Rey half-expected him to follow up with the line “It’s so hard to find good help these days,” but he didn’t. Instead, he turned his full attention to Rey. “It should only take another minute to get that all sorted, but in the meantime, let’s get to know each other.” He eyed her rather lasciviously.

Rey wasn’t sure there was anything else she really needed to know about the haughty ginger seated before her. Rudeness to waitstaff was a dealbreaker, no matter how generous a tipper Hux might be. Really, the fact that Hux thought he could pay people off to endure his mistreatment just enhanced Rey’s outrage at his behavior.

“Look, Hux, I really don’t--”

“Your drinks.” Rey was interrupted by a bartender setting down their cocktail napkins and glasses. 

“Thank you,” Rey murmured.

Hux picked up his drink with a look of distaste on his face and held it back out to the man. “I ordered a Gibson. An onion, not an olive,” he offered as if the _professional bartender_ wouldn’t know the difference between a Gibson and dirty martini without Hux’s explanation.

“Of course, sir, I’m so sorry. I’ll get that for you right away. My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“Yes, well... Ah, here comes the concierge. Finally.”

“Mr. Hux,” cried the concierge, crouching down in a sort of awkward half-bow, grasping Hux’s hand, and pumping. “How may I be of service to you this evening?”

“Well, you see Threepio, I’m on a date with this lovely creature--” he gestured toward Rey, “--and she would really like to enjoy dinner in the lounge, but I’m told it’s absolutely impossible for anyone to walk the 20 extra feet to deliver our food at this table instead of in the dining room.”

“Yes, that’s right. It is hotel policy that we only serve our full menu in the dining room.”

Hux’s eye twitched. “And you couldn’t possibly make an exception for an exceptionally loyal customer?” He sighed. “I suppose I will just have to look elsewhere for my future bookings...”

Rey watched as the concierge (Threepio?) straightened. “Well, as I said, protocol dictates that we only serve the full menu in the dining room.” Hux looked murderous. Threepio looked well and truly flustered. “But it is also our overarching mission statement that the customer should be treated with the utmost level of accommodation and hospitality…”

The tension was thick and Rey just wanted to leave.

Threepio continued, “I suppose, in this instance, the correct approach would be to allow you to have your dinner in the lounge.”

“Excellent,” Hux exclaimed immediately. “We’d like our menus now.”

“Of course, sir! Of course!” The man retreated, bobbing at Hux several more times on the way. 

A waiter appeared almost immediately with their menus. Rey read his nametag. Mitaka. “Ah! Now that wasn’t so hard,” Hux told Mitaka smugly. Nevermind that he had only just appeared at their table and hadn’t been privy to any of the prior commotion…

Rey had barely opened her menu when Hux started ordering, “We’ll start with the pan tomato, chicken croquettes, and the shrimp ceviche. After we’ve finished with those, we would like an order of the lobster fideua and calamari a la plancha. And then we’ll see from there.” 

_God,_ Rey thought, in horror, _he was using an affected Spanish accent when pronouncing each dish._ She wanted to die. She grabbed her glass of wine and took a generous gulp before remembering too late she hated sherry. She coughed, unladylike.

Hux sneered at her. “And bring her a glass of ice water. Flat, not sparkling,” he commanded without looking away from Rey. “You’ll love the ceviche,” he told her confidently. “Now, on to business...”

_Business? Did he think with was going well?_

“What are you hoping to get out of a sugar daddy arrangement, Rey?”

“Oh,” Rey said, startled by the sound of her own voice. It had been so long since she’d had the chance to use it. “Well, ideally I would like to find someone I enjoy spending time with, but who understands the advantages of a negotiated arrangement. The upfront communication. Not feeling pressured to fall in love,” Rey blushed at the last admission. 

“Yes, yes, I’m not asking for platitudes. I want the nitty-gritty. How much are you hoping to get? And how are you hoping to get it? Pay-per-play, weekly allowance, monthly?”

“Er, well, I suppose it would depend.”

“On? I _obviously_ wouldn’t be subject to the old and ugly tax, so what would it depend on?”

“I… well…” Rey didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to answer his questions and negotiate with him. She hated him and she never wanted to see him again!

“Hm, obviously you’re new to the Bowl and a little lost, so here’s my offer,” Hux said, leaning across the table, “I have a hotel room upstairs right now. How about $1500 for the night?”

Rey blinked at him, stupidly. “Excuse me?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “You’re right. That was insulting. Two grand for the night, with a $500 bonus if you let me--”

“Fuck you,” Rey seethed.

“Look, I know that all the websites are telling you to ‘assert your worth’ and play hardball with the daddies. And you’re not wrong. I could certainly afford to pay you quite a bit more, but I gotta tell you, with those tits and the general lack of effort put into your appearance, $2500 is generous.” 

Rey balked at the ginger asshole seated across from her. He continued, “You’re a very pretty girl, of course, but come on. Put on some fucking heels. A bandage dress. A smokey eye. Fucking something.”

“I’m not a fucking prostitute,” she told him through clenched teeth. “I don’t want your fucking money.”

“Of course you do,” he said. “If you didn’t want my money why would you be on that website?”

“I’m… because I’m… I told you, I’m interested in the arrangement…”

“Good Lord, I thought Chandrila students were supposed to be bright,” he muttered to himself.

“Look here, asshole,” Rey snarled, reaching her breaking point. “Listen to what I’m about to say. You’re vile, I’m not going upstairs with you, and I DO. NOT. WANT. YOUR. MONEY.” She stood abruptly, knocking back her chair.

“Oh!” Hux said, eyes lighting up. “You’re quite a bit feistier than I gave you credit for! Okay then, $5,000 for the night but we’re doing ana--”

Rey picked up her sherry and threw it in his face.

He spluttered up at her, his face contorted in rage. 

“I can come back,” squeaked the nervous waiter, arms laden with their first course.

“No,” Rey said, lowering her glass. “No, you’re fine. But unfortunately, something’s come up and Mr. Hux is going to need you to box up our food and bring it out to the patio where I'll be waiting _alone_ for my ride.”

With that, Rey marched through the lounge, across the lobby, and out the door.

 

* * *

 

As Rey shivered near the valet station, wishing she had brought a hoodie and waiting for her Lyft, she reflected on her first sugar date. It had been horrible. Much worse than traditional dating, a feat she hadn’t even thought possible.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that the rich, smug asshole had offered her $5,000 dollars to spend the night with him. FIVE GRAND. Rey was okay financially. I mean, she had to be careful about eating out and she wasn’t exactly splashing out on cover charges and concert tickets, But thanks to the grants and scholarships that came with being a former foster child, she was surviving.

That didn’t mean $5,000 wasn’t a game-changing sum. 

Hell, Rey was applying to grad school. And grad school didn’t come with the same financial aid that undergrad had offered. $5,000 would cover a professional GRE Prep Course, the cost of the exam, and all of her grad school application fees, with money left over for a brand new laptop, probably. $5,000 would be enough to pay her half of the rent for the entire year…

Rey didn’t regret not sleeping with Hux. He was repulsive! But she was kind of regretting not taking his money, going upstairs with him, and promptly biting his dick off.

The waiter from the lounge came out the front door. Rey blinked, surprised that Hux had allowed Mitaka to follow her instructions. He smiled at her and handed her two bags of food. “That guy’s an asshole,” he whispered conspiratorially. “All those rich fucks are. They treat us like we’re nothing. Like the only time we’re worth noticing is when they’re berating us.”

“Oh!” Rey said, surprised by his candor. “Um, how do you know I’m not part of the 1% too?” 

Mitaka glanced at her jeans and coughed uncomfortably.

“That obvious?” she laughed. 

“Not too obvious,” he assured her. “You just get a sharp eye working at a place like this. You don’t have the look. The ‘I’m better’ look.”

Rey groaned. “They only _think_ they’re better,” she replied. “Hux probably makes more in an hour than I’ll make in my lifetime, but that doesn’t mean it’s deserved. You think he works harder in that hour than I’ll work my whole life? No. He hasn’t earned it. This isn’t a meritocracy.”

Mitaka nodded. “I wish we could do something.” He sighed. “Anyway, I threw in a bonus creme caramel in case you needed it.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Rey insisted.

“Don’t worry about it,” he called over his shoulder as he stepped back inside. “I charged his room. He’ll never notice. They never check the restaurant bill.”

 

* * *

 

As Rey rode home, she thought about what Mitaka had said. _I wish we could do something._

Rey intended to do something. She was studying economics and applying for MPA programs for that express purpose. Eventually, she wanted to work for the Resistance or a similar non-profit. She wanted to conduct research and write journal articles and advise governments, all with the goal of tackling the growing problem of income inequality.

But she also wanted to do something _now_ , while she was still a year away from finishing undergrad, three years from finishing grad school, many years from finding a fulfilling career in the public or non-profit sector. 

But what? What could she do?

Hux’s $5,000 came back into her mind. Nevermind what Rey could have done with $5,000, the Resistance could have done even more. They were practiced at maximizing every penny to best serve the community.

The seed of an idea took root in Rey’s mind. What if she didn’t give up on sugaring? She still liked the idea of a transactional relationship, but maybe she’d been ignoring the more obvious benefit of an arrangement. Money. This whole time she’d been telling herself it wasn’t about the money for her, but what if she just embraced that part?

What if Rey dated rich men, took as much of their money as she could, and then turned around and gave that money to good causes? 

It still didn’t mean Rey would date men like Hux. Hux’s greatest crime, amongst a long list of charges, had been treating Rey like a prostitute. If Rey had learned anything from her online research into the Sugar Bowl, it was that sugaring wasn’t prostitution. (Not that Rey had any problem with prostitution, per se, besides its obvious illegality.) No, Rey would still avoid men that didn’t understand their role as sugar daddies. 

But she might be more willing to tolerate general rich-man-assholery, if she knew it was for a greater good. And funneling rich men’s money into the Resistance was _definitely_ a greater good.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years into her sugaring-for-charity scheme, Rey gets a message from a new potential sugar daddy, Kylo Ren. She's not looking for a new daddy right now, so why can't she seem to ignore the message?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for betaing!!
> 
> This chapter has A TWO YEAR TIME JUMP, so when it begins Rey has been part of the Sugar Bowl for a while and has had several sugar relationships.

**Hyvää huomenta,**

**I read your profile and you seem different. Substantial. Look over my profile and let me know if I’m someone you’d like to get to know.**

**I’m confident I’ll hear from you soon.**

**-Kylo**

 

Rey read the message for the third time that morning. In the two years that she had been active in the Sugar Bowl, she had received many communications just like this one. Lines from men who tried to convey confidence, but usually just came across as arrogant.

If Rey was looking for a daddy when she received these messages, she would usually respond with something calculated to be light and flirty. Maybe she would compliment their golf game or ask about their travels. 

Rey didn’t mind the arrogance. In fact, she preferred arrogant daddies. If they were pompous and flashy about their wealth, it was that much easier for her to take what they offered and ask for more. Hopefully, Rey would uncover some better part of their personality that made the arrangement tolerable, but she never wanted to lose that drive to bleed a daddy dry. That was her reason for doing this, after all: to correct, in her own small way, the unfairness inherent in the system. An unfairness that let the rich get richer, while the poor got poorer, with little regard for who actually earned the increase.

If Rey wasn’t looking for a daddy when she received these messages, she would usually delete them without responding. 

So then why hadn’t she deleted Kylo’s message, yet? Currently, Rey was juggling three daddies, though none of them were particularly demanding on her time. Still, with her second year of grad school just starting, Rey was expecting to break up with at least one of them to give herself more time to study. She _definitely_ didn’t have time to take on this Kylo person. And yet, his message still sat in her inbox...

… she could probably spare a minute to put him in his place. 

 

_Kylo,_

_Ah, so you caught on my profile that I speak conversational Finnish and thought you’d use Google Translate to impress me? How original._

_-Rey_

 

**Didn’t have to google translate it, sweetheart. I’ve been speaking Finnish since I was a child, courtesy of my father’s Finnish business partner. He taught me.**

**Now, how does one pick up Finnish in a nowhere place like Jakku?**

 

_Here’s some helpful feedback, for the benefit of the next woman you try to message. 1) Not your sweetheart. 2) Maybe don’t insult my hometown? 3) Going back to your opening message, most women aren't actually flattered when a man tells us that, unlike all the other women in the world, it seems like we have a brain. You sound like a misogynist. Antakaa minun olla rauhassa!_

 

**I’m guessing you still haven’t checked my profile.**

 

Rey was screaming internally when she placed her phone face down on the desk with just a bit too much force.

“Doing all right there, Rey?” Rose asked from the seat beside her. Rose’s eyes were still on the computer screen, but her quizzical expression told Rey that Rose had caught on to her distress.

“Fine. I’m fine,” Rey reassured her. “It’s just this asshole potential sugar daddy. He’s messaging me and telling me to look at his profile when I’ve already made it pretty clear I’m not interested.” Rey huffed.

“Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“I’m not really sure there is anything wrong with him, other than coming across like a pompous prick in his messages. I haven’t checked his profile, yet,” Rey admitted. 

“Yet,” Rose said, arching her brow. “So you’re going to check him out?”

Rey cleared her throat and avoided Rose’s eye. She’s wasn’t sure why she had phrased it that way. There really was no point in looking if she had no intention of continuing the conversation. She should just delete his messages already… “Show me what you wanted to show me,” Rey said to change the subject.

Rey had stopped by the Resistance’s headquarters between classes to check in with Rose. She’d been introduced to the Resistance’s resident tech expert a little over a year ago, through Poe. Despite her initial reluctance to welcome someone new into her social circle, she had eventually softened toward Rose when she saw how much Finn seemed to like her. 

And Rey had to admit, with most of Finn’s time now taken up with law school and Poe, it was nice to have someone else to grab a drink with.

On top of that, Rey and Rose had bonded over their shared resentment of the bourgeoisie. Of course, everyone at the Resistance had strong feelings about social and economic justice (even Snap, though Rey hated giving him any credit), but Rose was on another level. Rey had never met anyone quite as passionate about being anti-capitalist. Not even Leia Organa herself could compete with Rose’s commitment to the cause of addressing income inequality, and that woman had dedicated her entire life to redistributing her family’s massive fortune.

When Rey (while drunk) had confided in Rose about her sugaring, and particularly her reasons behind it, Rose had been quick to endorse the endeavor, excitedly slurring something about sugar babies being “peak late-stage capitalism.” Later, when they were both sober, Rose had even volunteered to help Rey build a website where she could resell all the non-cash gifts her daddies gave her. Rey had jumped at the chance to save the 20% commission previously lining Poshmark’s pockets.

The website was what they were meeting about today: Rose’s latest redesign.

“Okay, so here’s the shop,” Rose said, guiding Rey through the new layout. “Right now I have it programmed so that if something doesn’t sell within two weeks, the price will automatically drop, then two weeks later drop again, until it reaches the price floor.” 

Rey nodded along, impressed.

“By the way,” Rose said, “your idea to ask each of your daddies for the exact same present? Inspired! I can post the duplicate items as ‘brand new, never worn’ and get a much better resale value than the ‘lightly used’ version. And every bit helps to support the cause of dismantling the capitalist system,” Rose said brightly, slipping into her anti-capitalist talking points. She let out a dreamy sigh, “I just love thinking about these rich fucks funding their own destruction.”

“Yeah, I was pretty proud of that one. None of my daddies have even noticed me wearing a slightly different version of their gifts. Speaking of resale value, can your program tell me which kinds of items are selling the best?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rose clicked a few buttons. “Bags and jewelry do best, then clothes, shoes, and, obviously, lingerie is last. Even with me labeling the lingerie ‘tags on, never worn,’ I still think buyers are suspicious.”

“Ugh, of course. I would be too. I wish I could convince my daddies to stop buying it for me, but it's their favorite.” Rey rolled her eyes. “And they waste _so much_ money on it, too.”

“Capitalist pigs,” Rose muttered under her breath, making Rey smile. “Well, what about this new guy? Are you gonna look at his profile or what?” 

“Ugh, no. I don’t have time for anyone else. I’m already thinking of breaking up with Lando. I know I’m not his only sugar baby and all he ever wants me to do is hang on his arm in casinos. I mean, It’s easy money, but it’s also not as much money as the other two. Now that school is starting again, I really need to figure out how to maximize my time.”

“So you’re not even going to look at him? Can I look, at least?”

“Knock yourself out,” Rey shrugged, unlocking her phone and handing it to Rose. Rey busied herself with clicking around the new website. She wanted to see if the Marc Jacobs fanny packs had had any takers yet.

“What’s triple diamond mean?” 

Rey paused. “What?” 

“Triple diamond. What does it mean?”

“Oh, um, it’s an income-level designation. All the daddies and mommas have to go through background checks and get their income verified before their profiles go live. I hardly even see diamonds, though. You have to make like a million dollars a year for diamond-status. Most of these guys make like a quarter of that. Why?” Diamond daddies were rare enough that Rey assumed Rose’s question had nothing to do with the profile she was perusing.

“This guy’s profile,” Rose explained, contradicting Rey’s assumption. “It says he’s triple diamond.”

Rey choked. She turned her full body toward Rose and grabbed for her phone. Rose gave it over immediately. Quickly, Rey scanned the page.

There was a picture of a man with dark, shoulder length hair and a slight scowl. His distinctive face had an odd quality that made it hard for Rey to guess his age. Maybe somewhere in the range of 25-40? At the very least, Rey could tell he was younger than all three of her current sugar daddies. What she couldn’t tell was if he was handsome. She was leaning yes, but certainly not in any conventional way. He was dressed in what was clearly an expensive suit, but it seemed strain over his upper body. And then, next to the photo: **Kylo Ren, Chandrila, USA--Triple Diamond**

“If diamond members make a million, triple diamonds must make even more! Rey, you _have_ to try and be this guy’s sugar baby! Just imagine how much money you could get from him! And the Resistance’s Community Resource Center could really use a tech upgrade…”

Rey was barely listening, replaying in her mind her earlier exchange with Kylo. “Fuck,” she whispered. 

“What is it?” 

“I called him a misogynist and told him to go away!” 

 

* * *

 

_Kylo,_

_I just wanted to apologize for my earlier messages. You caught me on a bad day. It had nothing to do with you and was completely out of character for me. If you choose to respond to this message, I can assure you that it will not happen again!!_

_I used to live with an art and antique dealer. He had some interesting regular clients, including a group of Finns that liked to tell me stories in a mix of English and Finnish. I’ve always had a knack for languages._

_-Rey_

 

**Rey,**

**I see you finally read my profile.**

**Was it really out of character for you? What if I wanted it to happen again?**

**-Kylo**

 

Rey couldn’t help her nervous titter as she read the last line. Was Kylo confessing to having a masochism kink or something? Whatever else they might involve, sugar relationships were still relationships, and Rey considered it a bit of a red flag that Kylo was bringing up sexual preferences this early… She really didn’t want to deal with another Armitage Hux.

As if Kylo sensed her conflict, another message appeared in Rey’s inbox.

 

**That is to say, I’m not looking for a yes woman. I’m looking for someone with a personality and opinions that might differ from my own.**

**Christ, I’m bad at this**

**Can we just meet?**

 

“Poe, come look at this,” Rey squealed. 

She was gathered with Finn and Poe in their small apartment living room, after a long day of school or work for all of them. Finn was seated on the floor in front of their old, CRT TV, a massive law book open in his lap, and a veritable rainbow of highlighters and Post-it tabs spread out in front of him. Behind him on the couch sat Poe, giving him a shoulder massage, and only half watching whatever show was playing on the screen.

In response to Rey’s exclamation, Poe moved toward her on the far end of the couch. Finn whined in protest at the loss of his boyfriend’s skillful hands, but otherwise kept his eyes glued to his book.

“What am I looking at?” asked Poe, as Rey shifted her laptop from her lap to Poe’s.

“It’s this new potential daddy I’ve been talking to,” Rey explained. “Here, read these messages and tell me what you think.”

Poe turned his attention to the laptop in front of him and began reading. After just a few moments, Rey heard him suck air through his teeth. “Good God, Rey, you’re savage! Aren’t you supposed to be nice to these guys so they throw their money at you?” Rey just grimaced and told him to keep reading. 

When he had finished, he guffawed. “He wants to meet you? After all that, he still wants to meet you? You should probably recommend he look into getting a dominatrix when you decline. Might be cheaper for him.”

“What do you mean when I decline? I’m going to say yes,” Rey said. 

“Rey, I know you’re very dedicated to this whole Robin Hood-act, but how the hell do you plan to juggle another daddy? Isn’t Congress in recess? Doesn’t that mean Ransolm will be in town and want to see you? Where will you find the time? Back me up, Finn!” 

At the sound of his name, Finn seemed to wake from case law-induced trance. “Er, Sorry, what were you saying?” he asked. 

“Tell Rey she’s not allowed to have any more daddies.”

“REY! You cannot take on another daddy! How are you supposed to pass your classes and graduate if you focus all your time on your sugar daddies? Don’t you want to move on from sugaring, eventually?”

“But I think he’s a whale-daddy! Triple diamond! I can’t just let that go!” 

“What’s a whale-daddy?” Finn asked, unimpressed.

“You know, like a rare, elusive sugar daddy that every sugar baby wants to catch. A daddy with so much money that he can spoil a baby rotten, without a second thought. Think of how much good I could do with a daddy like that!”

“Aren’t rich people usually rich _because_ they’re careful with their money?” challenged Finn. “Just because you know he has a lot of it, doesn’t mean he’ll give it to you.” 

“First of all, no. That’s not how rich people get rich. Probably he had rich parents. Second, maybe he won’t give it to me, but isn’t the possibility enough to justify meeting him?”

“But what will you do if he wants an arrangement? It doesn’t matter how much money he has. You have no more time,” said Finn. 

“I’ll probably just break up with Lando. I’ve been thinking about doing it anyway.”

“Not Lando!” cried Poe. “He’s my favorite! Break up with Dryden. That guys sucks!”

“It’s not personal! I like Lando, too, but Dryden gives me a $2000 monthly allowance. Lando only gives me $1200.”

“Ugh, fine! But you have to get me the name of his tailor before you dump him,” begged Poe.

Rey laughed, picturing Poe peacocking in one of Lando’s gaudy custom suits. “I’ll do my best,” she told him. 

“You know I support you, Peanut,” Finn interrupted, his voice quiet and serious. “Maybe I didn’t get it at first, the sugaring, but you’ve managed to do a lot of good. I know that’s important to you and I’m proud. But before you think about taking on another daddy, I just want to make sure you’re prioritizing yourself. You’re no good to the Resistance or the cause if you’re running yourself ragged.”

Rey smiled at her best friend. She was genuinely touched by his concern, but she felt that it was misplaced. She had everything under control. “I promise, Finn. I’m just going to meet him. If he asks for too much, I’ll tell him no.

“Now,” she continued, standing up from the couch and walking toward the kitchen, “who wants a mug brownie?”

Finn and Poe both raised their hands.

 

* * *

 

_Yes._

_-Rey_

 

**Yes, you’ll meet me or yes, your earlier messages really were out of character?**

**Or yes, Kylo, you’re bad at this.**

 

_Yes, I’ll meet you._

_But since you asked… no, it wasn’t really that out of character for me. And yes, you do seem a little bit bad at this. ;)_

 

**Friday? Dinner and drinks?**

 

_I usually require more notice, but since we’ve established that you’re bad at this, I’ll make an exception._

_Yes, I can meet you for drinks on Friday night. I usually like to pick the location for the first date. Just in case you end up actually being a misogynist, or worse._

_Maz’s on Takodana, 8:00 pm?_

_**Is there anyway I can persuade you to change the location without you asking me why?** _

_There definitely isn’t *now*._

_**Then I’ll see you Friday at 8 at Maz’s.** _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> Hyvää huomenta: Good morning.  
> Antakaa minun olla rauhassa: Go away! or Leave me alone!
> 
> Some introductory links to the wide, wide world of reselling designer goods: [ThredUp 2019 Resale Report](https://www.thredup.com/resale) and ["A Complete A-Z Guide to Reselling"](https://fashionista.com/2017/08/reselling-resale-streetwear-clothes-guide)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo meet at Maz's. They banter, or as close to banter as Kylo Ren can manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for betaing, especially since you also do it for half the fandom!

It was 7:45 on Friday evening and Rey was crouched outside of Maz’s Bar removing her hoodie and swapping out her shoes. Rey had needed the extra layer and comfortable shoes for the walk from her apartment, but now she needed to make herself date-presentable.

Rey had been doing a lot of walking lately. She liked that it saved her money on Lyft fares, but she also liked that it made her feel less guilty about never buying local or organic anything. By no means was Rey a model of green living. She could only hyperfocus on one liberal cause at a time, but she still wanted to do something (and preferably something cheap) to show solidarity with the environmental movement. After all, economic justice advocates and environmentalists were all on the same side now; everyone agreed that the current capitalist system was an unsustainable, earth-destroying, worker-exploiting travesty.

So Rey walked. 

She pulled a pair of towering stilettos out of her tote bag and went about squeezing her already protesting feet into them. Rey hated heels but over the last couple of years, she had come to accept that to be a successful sugar baby she had to make some sacrifices, both to her feet and to her finances. Sometimes that meant investing her hard-earned sugar into buying toe torture devices. 

Of course, Rey had never expected to use _all_ her earnings on fighting income inequality. Some of it had to go toward living expenses. Rey had a scholarship that covered her graduate tuition and she earned some money TA’ing undergrad classes, but it wasn’t enough to cover everything. She still had to pay for rent and food and, most regrettably, sugar-appropriate fashion and beauty.

Despite frequently rubbing shoulders with the idle rich, Rey had not been tempted to replicate their spending habits. She and Finn still lived in the same shabby apartment and ate the same processed food that they had pre-sugaring. She still bought most of her day-to-day clothes from Target, and she still stole her wifi from Starbucks. The only thing that had changed was that now Rey had to occasionally “splurge” on clearance bodycon dresses and counterfeit clutches to keep up her facade.

Rey and Poe, her self-appointed personal stylist, had developed a crack system for dressing her on a dime. After the experience of having a waiter clock her as a member of the 99% based entirely on her Old Navy jeans, Rey had realized that she really needed to upgrade her sugar baby wardrobe. Poe had been thrilled when she told him, however, both of their enthusiasm had waned significantly when a popular sugar baby Youtuber had recommended aspiring babies spend no less $180 on a pair of entirely unremarkable dark wash jeans.

Of course, Rey could have just let a daddy buy her the jeans. Shopping sprees on a daddy’s dollar were actually a common occurrence in the Sugar Bowl. Rey, though, much preferred selling any luxury gifts on her resale site. Why would Rey wear a $700 cocktail dress when she could resell that unworn cocktail dress for $500, and then spend $50 on a replacement? Even better, Rey could ask her daddy for a limited edition tennis bracelet instead of a cocktail dress, because jewelry was better at retaining its value.

But that still left Rey the challenge of finding luxury-like items for a fraction of luxury prices. Where would she get a $50 cocktail dress?

Enter: designer dupe blogs. Rey’s and Poe’s bookmarks were now full of websites dedicated to identifying the best Amazon dupes for brands like Louboutin, Valentino, and Cartier. (Rey justified her use of Amazon by keeping her purchases to knock-off overpriced luxury goods ONLY. She still proudly supported local small businesses by buying her toilet paper at the bodega.) 

Amazon was where Rey had found the $40 So Kate knock offs that she was currently squeezing her feet into. Her jumpsuit had come from the clearance section of Saks Off Fifth, complete with a designer label, and her face full of makeup was courtesy of the Sephora Collection.

Rey shoved her sneakers into her tote bag and hurried into the bar to try and sweet-talk Maz into letting her stow her bag somewhere before Kylo showed up for their date. 

Towering above most of the crowd thanks to her four-inch heels, Rey quickly spotted the diminutive proprietor over by the bar. She maneuvered her way past the other patrons, brushing by men in bathrobes and dodging laser sticks to reach the other woman. Rey was too intent on her goal to stop and wonder why there were bathrobes and laser sticks at a bar on a Friday night.

“Maz,” she called, once she had broken through the throng. “Can I hide my hoodie and sneakers behind the counter? I’m meeting another date tonight and I don’t want him to know that I usually dress like a teenage boy...” Rey trailed off, suddenly noticing the large man that Maz appeared to be in conversation with. A man that bore a striking resemblance to Kylo Ren’s profile picture.

 _Fuck me,_ Rey thought before really comprehending the sheer width of the man. He seemed tall, but Rey was used to tall men. All those Finnish businessmen from her days at Plutt’s had practically been giants, and not just because Rey had been a child at the time. No, it was something more than height. He just gave off the quality of being massive. _Fuck me,_ Rey thought again, this time the words holding a very different meaning as she gave into her Neanderthal brain.

Rey felt herself blush fiercely as the man who was certainly Kylo shifted his attention from Maz to Rey. Rey watched his initial surprise turn into a shy half-smile as he took her in. His eyes moved from her face to the unfashionable beige tote clutched in her hands, and Rey knew any chance of seeming chic and stylish was lost. 

“Nevermind,” she said, not taking her eyes off Kylo. “Too late.”

“Ahh, so Rey is the woman who finally tempted you back to my bar. On Galaxy Battles Trivia Night, no less,” Maz teased. 

This was new information to Rey. Maz had a somewhat unpredictable schedule for her theme nights, and Rey had apparently missed any advertising. The local nerd population of Chandrila obviously had not.

Kylo turned back to Maz, a stricken look on his face. “Galaxy Battles Trivia Night?” a deep voice growled. Rey hadn’t heard him speak yet, and the sound of his voice sent an involuntary shudder through her body.

“A childhood favorite of yours, if I remember correctly. Of course, that was before.” Maz lowered her Coke bottle glasses as if to drive home her point.

“You two know each other?” Rey asked.

“Child, I remember when _Kylo Ren_ was born,” Maz said, reciting his name with an odd, almost sarcastic quality. “Ben too,” she muttered much more quietly, leading Rey to wonder if she was even meant to hear the aside.

The name meant nothing to Rey, but judging by the daggers Kylo was shooting in Maz’s direction it meant something to him. Rey made a mental note to ask about it later.

“Well, I won’t hold up your ‘date’ any longer,” Maz told them, hopping down from her stool. Rey hadn’t missed the very clearly implied air quotes around “date.” Maz knew Rey’s game. She’d been hosting these meetups for the last two years, not to mention many similar meetings for Bazine. If Maz had any problem with her bar being used the way, she’d never expressed it to Rey. In fact, Rey got the distinct impression that Maz appreciated the importance of familiar surroundings and friendly staff when meeting strange men off the internet. It didn’t stop her from teasing, however. 

Her teasing had definitely registered with Kylo. He was blushing furiously as Maz took her leave. Rey just assumed he wasn’t as open about his participation in the Sugar Bowl as she was. Most of the daddies weren’t. “Thanks, Maz,” Kylo called after the older woman’s retreating form, “for your discretion.” 

“You can thank me by calling your mother,” Maz huffed in reply, neither stopping nor turning back. Kylo stared after her and blushed deeper.

“I’m Rey, by the way,” Rey offered, sliding onto Maz’s recently vacated stool. 

Kylo took a moment to school his features before turning toward her and holding out his hand “Kylo,” he said, his tone measured and confident. However, when Rey shook his hand she couldn’t help but notice it was moist and clammy. Kylo was nervous. If not for the unforgivable character flaw of being a multi-millionaire, Rey might have been charmed. It wasn’t every day that she unsettled a daddy.

“Who’s Ben?” Rey opened with, remembering Kylo liked to be challenged. 

She watched as the mask of careful confidence slipped from his face. He cleared his throat. “I think I need another round,” he deflected, lifting the almost empty tumbler that was sitting in front of him. He motioned for the bartender. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, side-eyeing Rey. 

“White wine, please. Who’s Ben?” she repeated. “Is he your brother?”

The bartender approached and took their drink orders. As soon as he left, Kylo swiveled to face her. “No, he’s not my brother. Ben is no one. He’s just someone from a past life.”

Rey could tell Kylo wanted that to be the end of it, but Rey wasn’t done. “Is this the same past life you know Maz from?” she pressed.

Kylo laughed uncomfortably. “Do you do this to all your dates?”

“Only the ones that told me they like it,” Rey quipped.

Kylo laughed again but this time Rey heard genuine humor behind the sound.

“In all seriousness, though, you know my secret: I’m not anywhere near this chic in my everyday life,” Rey explained, gesturing to the tote bag now slumped at her feet, a fraying arm of her raggedy blue zip-up spilling out over the top and testifying to the truth of her words. “So now you owe me one of your secrets.”

Kylo smiled warmly as he took a sip from the fresh drink just placed before him. Rey ran a finger along the rim of her glass as she waited for his reply. As he placed his amber drink back down on its cocktail napkin he murmured, “Yours isn’t _really_ a secret, though. I could have guessed it from your knock-off Louboutins.”

Rey’s mouth fell open in outraged shock. She had wondered before if any of her daddies could spot her less-than-authentic designer wardrobe, but no one had ever had the gall to say it to her face. Now, just minutes into their date, Kylo was calling her out.

He must have seen the change in her countenance because he rushed to say, “What’s wrong? What did I say?”

“You can’t be serious,” Rey scoffed. 

“Is this about the shoes?” he asked, like he was genuinely confused by her reaction. “They’re definitely not authentic. The sole should have a much glossier finish.” He lifted one of his own red bottomed shoes to illustrate. Sure enough, the telltale gloss stared back at her. 

“Of course they’re not real!” cried Rey. “I’m a student! Why would I spent $600 on _any_ pair of shoes? Let alone, a pair this ridiculously impractical! Why would anyone?” She looked at him accusingly.

Kylo frowned. “The Barneys personal shopper picked them out for me.” 

It was all so absurd. He was absurd! He wasn’t sneering at her the way he might have been if he was trying to neg her or hurt her feelings. Rey started to suspect that Kylo’s motivation for pointing out her knock-off shoes was because he truly didn’t consider her bad style a secret, and he didn’t have the social grace to censor that opinion.

She started laughing and then laughing harder. She couldn’t be angry at him for being awkward. And anyway, even if he had been negging her, it wouldn’t have been a reason to walk out on their date. Kylo was a potential whale daddy. That significantly raised her threshold for enduring pretension.

Kylo leaned toward her, the confused frown still on his face. He seemed at a loss for how to respond.

When she had recovered her composure enough, she reached for her wine and took a long swig. “Can we start over?” she asked Kylo as she placed the glass back down on the table. “Another do-over? Like the messages?”

He looked relieved at her suggestion. “Okay,” he agreed.

Just as she opened her mouth to ask him about a neutral subject like golf or travel, Maz’s voice projected across the bar. “Humans, humanoids, aliens, and droids! Welcome to Maz’s First Annual Galaxy Battles Trivia Night!” 

The crowd around them cheered enthusiastically. Kylo groaned.

“Er, not a Galaxy Battles fan, I take it?” Rey asked. 

“Another part of my past life I’d like to keep in the past.”

“Well, If it helps, I’m sorry. I had no idea there was a trivia night tonight or I wouldn’t have suggested Maz’s. This bar is usually very classy. One or two murder bears, tops.” 

Kylo cracked a smile.

“First question!” Rey heard Maz call out to the crowd. “Two-parter. You must get both parts correct to earn the point. Which Galaxy Battles film was nominated for a Best Picture Oscar? And what film did it ultimately lose to?”

Rey looked to Kylo expectantly. “Well?” she teased.

He ran a giant hand through his thick black waves, a nervous tick. Rey found herself distracted by the size of his bicep, visible even through his dark blazer. “Uh, Episode IV,” he muttered, interrupting her ogling. “It lost to Annie Hall.”

“Wow, I was just kidding. But you really were a Galaxy Battles nerd, weren’t you? Did you see all the original movies in the theater fifteen times?”

“How old do you think I am, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Rey said with a mischievous smile. “Maybe fifty?”

“I’m 32,” he replied. “Episode IV came out in 1977.”

“So?”

“So I was still 9 years away from conception when it was in theaters.”

Rey laughed. “I didn’t really think you were fifty.”

“I would hope not.” 

“Forty-five, at the very most.”

Kylo groaned.

Rey couldn’t help but ask, “So am I making a good impression? Is this the best first date you’ve been on in the Bowl?”

Kylo’s gaze took on an unexpected intensity at the teasing question. “This is the only sugar date I’ve ever been on,” he told her, holding her eye for a long moment before abruptly breaking away to take a sip of his drink.

Rey blinked. “The only one?” she asked, the surprise clear in her tone. Everything about Kylo’s profile screamed “daddy!” Rey couldn’t believe that he didn’t have babies flooding him with messages, trying to lock down a triple diamond. His opener hadn’t been _that_ bad. “How long have you been on the site?” she asked.

Kylo hummed. “Eight months,” he eventually offered. 

Rey choked on her wine, regretting her ill-timed sip. “Eight months? And you’ve never progressed to an in-person meeting before?” Rey’s mind was racing trying to suss out the red flag that every other baby had apparently seen, but Rey had missed. “Do you send a lot of messages?”

Kylo swirled the drink still in his hand, his eyes focused anywhere but Rey. “You’re actually the first woman I’ve messaged,” he admitted. “I mean, I’ve _received_ messages before, but I’ve never really felt inclined to respond.”

Rey just stared blankly at the millionaire before her. “But why me?” she asked without an ounce of tact.

“I told you,” he shrugged. “There was something about you that seemed different.” 

“And am I… I mean, am I meeting your expectations?”

Kylo finally looked Rey in the eye, his face betraying shock at her questions. “Of course,” he insisted. 

Rey was honestly so confused. She could not understand why Kylo had singled her out from all the other women on that website. Especially since Rey had designed her profile specifically to be blandly appealing to the maximum number of potential daddies. What could have possibly prompted him to reach out to _her_? And what about her performance tonight continued to endear her to him?

“And me? Have I made a good impression on you?” Kylo asked, the bob of his Adam’s apple betraying his nerves.

Rey bit her lip, remembering Finn’s and Poe’s advice to not overextend herself by taking on another daddy. They were right, of course. But there was something about Kylo that made Rey want to agree to an arrangement. She told herself it was his deep pockets.

“I’m a full-time grad student,” she offered in lieu of an answer. “I have limited time to offer you.”

“What’s your schedule? I’d want to see you once a week, at least. We could have a standing Friday evening appointment, if that works or you. And then smaller communications throughout the week. Texts, emails, that sort of thing.”

That was a lot. Rey saw Dryden every other Friday, and Casterfo at least one weekend per month. Not to even mention her inconsistent rendezvous with Lando. “I don’t think I could do Fridays,” she admitted.

“Is it a school commitment?” 

“No…”

“Work?” 

“In a sense…” Rey offered.

Kylo sat quietly, contemplating her answer. “I’m looking for an exclusive arrangement,” he said.

“Exclusive?” Rey asked, wincing slightly. 

“I know it’s normal for sugar babies to have multiple sugar daddies, but I’m not really interested in an arrangement where I have to compete for your free time. I’d make it worth your while, of course.”

“What do you mean ‘worth my while’?” Rey asked, suspiciously.

“Whatever you’re making between your daddies, I’ll top it.” 

Rey sucked in a breath. “I get $5,000 a month between them,” she hedged, expecting to see Kylo balk.

“Then I’ll offer you $6,000.”

“You’re serious?” she asked.

“Of course. But you have to break up with your other daddies. I don’t mind scheduling around school or work or even social engagements, but I’m not willing to share you with other men.” 

“This is pretty unusual, you know. Sugar relationships aren’t that different from regular relationships. The couple usually dates for a while before anyone brings up exclusivity. We barely know each other, and you’re asking me to give up three steady income sources for the vague promise that we might work out long-term.” 

“I never professed to be typical,” he countered. He leaned back on his stool and looked lost in thought for a minute. “What about this?” he began again. “I can pay you the first three months of allowance upfront. That way, if either of us decides the arrangement can’t work, you have a buffer while you look for someone or someones else.”

Now it was Rey’s turn to lapse into silent contemplation. Her initial reaction was that his offer sounded fair. Three to six months was about the length of an average sugar relationship, anyway. All of Rey’s past relationships had been about that long. And she _was_ approaching the six-month mark with both Lando and Casterfo.

“Can I think about it, first?” she asked Kylo.

“Of course,” he assured her. “When you make your decision, or if you have any questions, just email me.” He pulled a sleek black business card out of his wallet. When Rey weighed it in her hand it felt sturdy and expensive. “We can also email about any details of the arrangement that need to be worked out. Schedule, payment, that kind of thing.”

It suddenly occurred to Rey that she had never asked Kylo her most important question, an absolute dealbreaker for her, no matter how much money the potential daddy was offering. Kylo’s emphasis on emailing had reminded her. There was nothing wrong with email, per se. Rey actually preferred to communicate with her daddies through text or email, especially when negotiating an arrangement, so then everything was committed to writing. But it also didn’t hurt to verify that the emailing didn’t have some more nefarious purpose. Like keeping communications off of phones where other people might stumble across the messages...

With narrowed eyes, she asked, “You’re not married, right?” 

Kylo actually guffawed. “No, Rey. I don’t like to share, and I don’t expect anyone to share me, either.” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some links: 
> 
> As always, my primary resources for all things Sugar Bowl: [Let's Talk Sugar](https://www.letstalksugar.com/) (especially their Sugar 101 Guide and forum) and [r/sugarlifestyleforum](https://www.reddit.com/r/sugarlifestyleforum/) (unlike LTS, not hosted by a sugarbaby website, so even more uncensored!)
> 
> Some examples of Designer Dupe Blogs: [1](https://cominguprosestheblog.com/best-designer-dupes/) [2](https://gypsytan.com/amazon-designer-dupes-vol1/) [3](https://www.theballeronabudget.com/category/fashion/designer-dupes/) [4](https://www.lapassionvoutee.com/cheap-christian-louboutin-shoes/)
> 
> How can you tell if a pair of Louboutins are counterfit?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo come to an agreement and then go on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for looking over this chapter so many times, including a few times while I was actively writing it. You are too patient and kind!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182538674@N08/48331805392/in/dateposted-public/)

To: kylo.ren@*****.com  
From: sugarreyby@*****.com  
Subject: I’m not saying yes, but…

I’m intrigued. Some questions: What does an arrangement look like to you? What expectations would you have for me? What would a typical date look like?

-Rey

 

* * *

 

To: sugarreyby@*****.com  
From: kylo.ren@*****.com  
Subject: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

Rey,

If you’re asking questions that means you’re still thinking about it and I still have a shot. So ask me all the fucking questions. Please.

I don’t like the uncertainty and inefficiency that comes with traditional dating. I want a relationship where everything is on the table. No games. 

Like I mentioned, ideally, we would see each other once a week, on the weekend. We can talk about a standard day/time. I would want communication throughout the week, as well. Texts, emails, the occasional phone call. Not every day, but at least a few times per week. I want to feel like we’re a part of each other’s lives.

As far as what a typical date would look like, I’m flexible. I work a lot. I don’t have any hobbies. But I’m finally at a place in my career where maybe I have time for something else. I was hoping you would be that something else.

Best,  
Kylo Ren

 

* * *

 

To: kylo.ren@*****.com  
From: sugarreyby@*****.com  
Subject: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

Since you value directness--

You’ve already offered a $6,000 monthly allowance. This is a good starting offer, but if I’m going to be totally exclusive, no other daddies, no vanilla boyfriends, I’ll need at least $6,500. I prefer to receive my allowance cash. Any gifts (encouraged) would be _in addition_ to the monthly allowance.

Instead of weekly meets, I can offer you four meets per month, to be scheduled on a monthly basis. (More flexibility for both of us should a conflict arise.) I have no issue with your proposed communications outside of meetings. 

We can use our meets/dates to help you find your hobby. I understand shuffleboard is really popular with the 50+ demographic. ;)

You haven’t mentioned anything about overnights? Ideals? Limits? HARD-NOs? 

-Rey

 

* * *

 

To: sugarreyby@*****.com  
From: kylo.ren@*****.com  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

Rey,

$6,500 cash each month is fine. I will still pay you three months in advance, but for your own safety and my peace of mind, let me write you a check. $19,500 cash is a lot of cash to carry. 

Everything else sounds fine. 

…Overnights? How, uh, do those usually work?

Best,  
Kylo Ren

 

* * *

 

To: fstorm@chandrilalaw.edu, poe.dameron@resistance.org  
From: sugarreyby@*****.com  
Subject: Fwd: Re: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

HOLY FUCK! He wants the girlfriend experience. Fine! GREAT! I was just playing hardball with him! $6,000 was fine and there’s zero chance of me getting a vanilla boyfriend. But he agreed!! No counter-offer, no questions!! HOLY FUCK!!!

Begin forwarded message: 

| To: sugarreyby@*****.com  
| From: kylo.ren@*****.com  
| Subject: Re: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…  
|  
| Rey,  
|  
| $6,500 cash each month is fine. I will still pay you three months in advance, but for your own  
| safety and my peace of mind, let me write you a check. $19,500 cash is a lot of cash to carry.  
|  
| Everything else sounds fine.  
|  
| …Overnights? How, uh, do those usually work?  
|  
| Best,  
| Kylo Ren

 

* * *

 

To: fstorm@chandrilalaw.edu,, sugarreyby@*****.com  
From: poe.dameron@resistance.org  
Subject: Re: Fwd: Re: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

GET IT, GURL!! BLEED 👏 HIM 👏 DRY!! 👏 (For the greater good, of course.)

 

* * *

 

To: poe.dameron@resistance.org, sugarreyby@*****.com  
From: fstorm@chandrilalaw.edu  
Subject: Re: Fwd: Re: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

So THAT’S a whale daddy… 😳

 _Finn Storm_  
JD Candidate  
Chandrila School of Law

 

* * *

 

To: kylo.ren@*****.com  
From: sugarreyby@*****.com  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

We’re two adults in an exclusive relationship. Sex is on the table if that’s something you’re interested in, but I’d prefer that we progress to it naturally. 

I really just need to know if you have any _unusual_ proclivities. I’m open, but if you need, like, a dominatrix, that’s probably not me…

I’m happy to show you my clean test results, but I would like to see yours as well.

-Rey

 

* * *

 

To: sugarreyby@*****.com  
From: kylo.ren@*****.com  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

Rey,

We’re “two adults in an exclusive relationship”? Does that mean you’re saying yes?

I agree. We should let things progress naturally. No, I am NOT looking for anything like a dominatrix. Yes, I will get tested.

Best,  
Kylo Ren

 

* * *

 

To: kylo.ren@*****.com  
From: sugarreyby@*****.com  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: I’m not saying yes, but…

Barring any bounced checks or positive test results, I am saying yes.

-Rey

 

* * *

 

Once Kylo and Rey had agreed to formalize their arrangement, it only took Kylo a handful of days to send Rey his clean bill of health, her first three months of allowance, and a very ostentatious bouquet. 

The allowance had come in a worrying mix of cash and check, with a complicated explanation about IRS annual gift tax exclusions. Rey had been worried Kylo was trying to pull something on her, but Finn assured her that he was trying to pull something on the government, not Rey. Finn had taken Wills and Estates last semester and had learned all about the tricks and loopholes rich people used to avoid paying their fair share of taxes to the government.

This had led to a long rant by Rey about the greed of the wealthy, complete with outraged interjections from Rose about the federal government being in the pocket of the corporate class. Finally, though, Rey had calmed down enough to send Kylo her own clean test results and let him know that she had broken things off with her other daddies. (Lando had been happy to give her the name of his tailor as a parting gift.)

Within an hour of Rey sending her confirmation, Kylo sent her another, even larger bouquet, with a card asking her on the first official date of their new arrangement.

Instead of the typical evening or late night meet, Kylo surprised Rey by asking for a Saturday afternoon date. Rey had no idea what he was planning, but he had given her rather cryptic instructions to dress for the outdoors. The late summer/early fall weather was still warm enough that Rey had taken the directive to mean: barely dress.

That’s how Rey found herself riding shotgun in a luxury SUV, clad in hot pants and a tank top, heading up into a canyon.

She glanced over at Kylo as he drove, trying to assess the likelihood that he was taking her up into the wilderness to dispose of her body. If that _was_ where this date was headed, Rey really wished she had worn pants that covered more of her ass. It wasn’t that Rey was ashamed of her body. She knew her tanned, toned legs and peachy behind were among her best assets. She just didn’t necessarily want them featured, uncovered, on the local evening news.

“We’re here,” Kylo announced as he pulled into a small parking lot just off the winding canyon road. Rey glanced around to see several other cars and a small group of people gathered near what looked to be a handful of trailheads. That was a good sign. Presumably, if Kylo had meant to commit some nefarious deed, he would have chosen a more desolate location.

“We’re going hiking?” Rey asked. 

“Uh, yeah,” Kylo said, reaching back behind his seat. His somewhat muffled voice continued, “You said we should use the dates to help me find my hobby. Well, being outdoors was something I used to enjoy. Before the First Order became my life.” Kylo sat forward again, a green cardboard box now in his hands. “This is for you,” he told her abruptly, holding it out to her. 

Rey took it and placed it on her mostly bare lap, reading the brand name scrawled across the top of the box, among a motif of pine trees: Danner.

“Open it,” Kylo urged.

Rey opened it. Inside she found a pair of cognac-colored boots, bright red laces standing out against the tan material. She grazed a finger along one shoe, feeling the embossed lettering on the high-quality leather. They looked sturdy. And cute. Rey wasn’t much for fashion but she genuinely liked these.

“They’re hiking boots,” Kylo told, trying and failing to suppress how pleased he was with his offering. “They’re much more comfortable than Louboutins. And cheaper,” he added.

Rey looked up at him, remembering her outburst the previous weekend when she had railed against paying upwards of $600 for uncomfortable designer shoes. She had meant to be insulting, but he had taken her shade in stride and instead used the information to pick out a really thoughtful gift. Inexplicably, Rey felt a lump rise in her throat. She was almost tempted to keep the boots, but they would probably sell for a really good price on her resale site.

“How much cheaper than Louboutins?” she asked. Rey knew it was a gauche question, but right now she was more concerned with not bursting into tears in front of her brand new sugar daddy than seeming gracious and genteel. If she had tried to thank him, Rey was sure she would have cried.

“Much cheaper,” Kylo assured her, vaguely. “The sales associate tried to sell me on more expensive boots at first. Gucci. Moncler. Even Louboutin. But I told her you’d want something reasonable.”

 _Oh my god,_ Rey thought. He’d even picked the shoes out himself instead of sending some unlucky employee to pick them out for him. “Kylo,” she choked out, “Thank you.” 

“Try them on,” he prompted her. Rey hesitated. If she wore the hiking boots _on_ their hike, there was no way she’d be able to resell them. 

She flailed a bit for an excuse. “I don’t want to mess them up,” Rey told him. “My running shoes will be fine.”

“Rey,” Kylo told her, sounding annoyed. “Your shoes will not be fine. They’re mesh. These boots are waterproofed leather. They’re meant to be worn in exactly this situation. I bought them for you because I wanted to get something practical. I even got hiking socks.” 

Rey knew she was stuck. There was no way she could refuse to wear his gift without insulting him, and possibly putting their whole arrangement at risk. And if Rey was totally honest with herself, she didn’t really want to refuse, anyway. “You’re right,” she told him, trying to soothe his slightly ruffled feathers. “Of course you’re right. I was just afraid of getting such a beautiful gift dirty, but I’m sure they’ll be fine.” She gave him her sweetest smile and went to work swapping out her shoes and socks.

A minute or two later, Rey was laced up and ready to go. The boots felt stiff on her feet, but she just chalked that up to them having more ankle support than she was used to. She was sure that even if the boots were a bit unbroken, the thick socks would protect her feet.

She trotted over to Kylo as he slung a kind of picnic basket/backpack hybrid over one shoulder “There’s supposed to be a clearing a few miles up the trail,” he told her, leading her off the pavement and onto the rougher terrain. “I thought we could hike up there and have a picnic before heading back down.”

“Alright,” Rey agreed, pleased with the plan. She’d never done anything like this with any of her previous daddies. The novelty was fun. And she definitely had no complaints about seeing Kylo dressed more casually. The way his black t-shirt clung to his large chest gave her a nice preview of what she might find underneath all the dark clothing. 

Rey wasn’t the only one enjoying the view, either. As they hit the trail, Rey noticed Kylo slowing falling behind her. On such a gentle path, at such an easy pace, and with THAT body, Rey couldn’t imagine overexertion was the problem. She glanced over her shoulder and found him staring intently at her ass. “Oh,” Rey said, bringing his attention off her ass and up to her face. He blushed violently as she smirked at him.

For the rest of the hike to the clearing, Kylo made a point of walking side-by-side with Rey. 

“You mentioned something about liking the outdoors,” Rey asked at one point, trying her best to ignore the uncomfortable way her boot kept rubbing against her heel.

“Oh, yeah. I _did_ ,” he said, swatting what was probably the ten-thousandth mosquito to make a play at getting a taste of him. “I think I blocked out the bugs, though,” he explained.

“Clearly not a Boy Scout,” Rey observed, suddenly appreciative of the sticky, fragrant, and bug-free state of her skin. Poe _had_ been a Boy Scout, and when he heard Rey was headed out-of-doors for her date, he had insisted on covering every inch of her ample bare skin with military-grade insect repellent. “A Boy Scout would never be caught so unprepared,” she scolded.

Kylo laughed. “You’re right. Definitely not a Boy Scout. No, it was just something my dad and I used to do together. A long time ago,” he shrugged.

“That’s nice,” Rey said, feeling only the slightest tinge of panic that the conversation was moving in a parental direction. Rey didn’t really mind hearing about other people’s parents. Sure, she might feel a little bit envious or annoyed, but that wasn’t really her problem. Her problem came when people wanted her to reciprocate, to share her own childhood stories or petty complaints. That was the part of the conversation she’d never really learned how to navigate. 

“Would you go hiking a lot?” she added, giving up on finding a graceful way to change the conversation topic entirely.

“Not just hiking. Camping. Tents, latrines, cans of beans cooked over an open flame. All the cliches.”

Rey couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice when she replied. “Sounds rugged.”

“Oh, I see,” Kylo said, looking over at her as they kept hiking. “You think because I have money that I’ve never had to rough it.” 

“Well…” 

“You’re mostly right,” he admitted. “The money I have now is my own, but I grew up comfortably. My dad, though, he didn’t. I think that might be why we went camping so often. It’s like he would get restless in a proper house, in a world where he didn’t have to constantly struggle just to survive. He had to create the struggle for himself.” Kylo said it like it mystified him. 

Rey, on the other hand, knew exactly what that life was like and how hard it could be to shift that mindset. Kylo was giving her $6,500 per month, and Rey was still eating peanut butter sandwiches for lunch everyday.

Kylo continued, “Sometimes my mom would tag along. Sometimes my uncle or my dad’s best friend. Usually, though, it was just my dad and me.” 

Rey glanced over when he didn’t say any more. He was still physically beside her, but his mind looked like it wandered off to somewhere long ago and far away. “Sounds nice,” she said simply.

“It didn’t last very long,” he said, his eyes focusing again and a trace of bitterness creeping into his tone.

Rey wasn’t sure how to respond. It was clear to her, a seasoned veteran of parental trauma, that Kylo didn’t want to elaborate. But she also didn’t want to call attention to his agitation by changing the subject too abruptly. 

Kylo, however, seemed to shake off whatever darkness had just come over him and asked her, “What about you?” It was the exact question she had been hoping he _wouldn’t_ ask.

“Uh, what about me?” Rey played dumb, tensing for his inevitable question about her parents or her childhood. 

“Have you ever dug your own latrine?”

Rey stumbled over the uneven ground, knocked off balance by the surprise of Kylo’s first proper joke. At least, she hoped it was a joke. 

She looked up when he offered her a steadying hand and was met with bright eyes and a closed mouth smile. Definitely a joke, then. She took his hand and grinned back, all while thinking that someday she’d like to see the version of his smile with teeth.

When she’d collected herself enough to continue the conversation, she told him, “No, I’ve never dug a latrine.” 

“You need a teacher,” he offered, the glint still in his eye. “When we reach the clearing, I can show you. It should be just up ahead.”

But when they reached the clearing, instead of teaching her how to dig a latrine, Kylo went about setting up their picnic. He spread a blanket that Rey would have sworn was made of 100% cashmere out on the dirty earth. Continuing the trend of luxury goods comically out of place in the wilderness, Kylo pulled a bottle of wine in a freezer sleeve out of his basket, along with two stemmed glasses and all the trimmings for a proper charcuterie board.

“Very different from the beef jerky and trail mix that I was expecting,” she said, arranging herself on the blanket so that she maximized their physical contact, ready to flirt after the tension of their earlier discussion.

“Did you want beef jerky and trail mix?” he asked, genuine concern in his tone. 

“Kylo, no,” she reassured him, reaching out to rest her hand on the arm clutching the now-unsleeved wine. “This is lovely. Better. Almost as good as a can of beans,” she couldn’t help but tease. 

“I can make you beans sometime,” he told her as he poured.

As they ate their spread and drank their wine, they talked on safer topics than either of their childhoods. Rey had googled Kylo extensively before ever meeting him in person, so she already knew he was a former First Order investment banker turned venture capitalist. She’d read long-form journalism about his contentious split with FO Bank, infamous for their predatory lending practices under the leadership of former CEO (and current federal convict) James Snoke. She’d read shorter articles about the founding of his venture capital firm, Silencer Capitol, and the various tech startups he’d invested in.

What she hadn’t known about before that afternoon were the smaller details of the man, probably considered too inconsequential or off-topic to make it into any of the numerous profiles. For example, Kylo was worried about automation. Before he would invest in self-driving cars, he wanted to see evidence that the engineers and designers had at least considered the worker displacement that would be a consequence of their technology. 

Rey was happy to hear him questioning the wisdom of unregulated “progress,” but he was far from a working class champion. His life sounded like a capitalist’s wet dream and, as such, Rey’s nightmare. She still had to bite back numerous criticisms and condemnations that rose like bile in her throat. 

When he asked about her graduate work, she talked about her professors, her classmates, only the vaguest details of her research, but she left out any and all mention of the work she was doing with the Resistance. Rey worried that they were too easy to google, and that her association with the economic justice and development non-profit might give Kylo too much incriminating insight into her real social and economic philosophy. 

It was just easier to keep things vague.

The longer they sat talking about their professional lives, however, the more aware Rey become of the sad state of her feet. The beautiful boots Kylo had gifted were definitely the kind of shoes that needed to be broken in. The skin on the back of her heels had been rubbed completely raw by the stiff leather, and now that Rey had taken a moment to rest, the sharp pain had settled and intensified. She was dreading the moment Kylo would suggest starting the return journey. She didn’t want to hurt or offend him by telling him exactly what his gift had done to her feet. 

Watching him pack up the picnic basket, Rey wracked her mind for something she could do to make the journey back bearable. Maybe she could shove moss down her socks? Hike barefoot? Could she do either without Kylo noticing?

“Are you ready to head back, now?” Kylo asked her, interrupting her half-baked planning. “We should leave soon if we want to be back before the sun goes down.” 

Rey looked up to see him standing above her, offering a hand to help her to her ravaged feet. “Kylo,” she whimpered, her resolve to hide her pain completely crumbling when faced with the prospect of having to walk another few miles in these shoes. “I don’t think I can make it.” 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, confused. 

“My feet!” she cried, the dramatics enhanced by her slight tipsiness. “The shoes! The leather was too stiff. I’m pretty sure all the sore spots and blisters have grown and merged! I no longer have feet. Just pain!” 

“You can’t walk at all?” he asked, his furrowed brow shifting from confusion to concern.

“I really don’t think I can,” she told him, resigning herself to die on the mountain.

Kylo leaned over. “I’ll carry you,” he said definitively.

“Carry me?” Rey laughed. “Do you really think you’ll be able to carry me all the way?”

Kylo actually snorted. “It won’t be a problem, Rey.” 

Rey wanted to argue. Her almost pathological independence meant that she had a hard time relying on other people for anything. Being carried down a mountain, entirely dependant on the person carrying her, was a level of discomfort Rey wanted to avoid. But she also couldn’t think of any more autonomous alternatives. She honestly didn’t think she could make it one step in her boots. And, unfortunately, she’d already eaten all the meat and cheese in the basket, so she definitely didn’t think she’d be able to survive long in the clearing.

Another part of her, though, the primal part that was usually deeply buried, but had been uncovered somewhat by the wine, was thrilled at the prospect of this very large, very strong man carrying her in his arms. 

“Can you stand?” Kylo asked her when she didn’t protest his suggestion, reaching his hand down to help her up again. Rey nodded and let him pull her to her feet. She had barely reached full uprightness when he stalked closer toward her and swept her up and into his arms in one fluid motion. 

Rey’s primal brain lit up in response to being clutched so close to him, but the more logical side of her brain resisted.

“Um, Kylo?” she asked, wriggling out of the bridal carry and back onto her aching feet. “Wouldn’t it be more practical if I just rode you?” she asked.

Kylo choked. 

“Like a piggyback ride!” she clarified, feeling her face turn violently pink. “I just mean, won’t it be easier and less tiring if you carried me on your back?”

“Oh,” Kylo said. “I think my arms could handle it, but I suppose it does make more sense to do it that way.” Rey was kicking herself for denying her the pleasure of seeing what his massive arms could take. “Okay, yeah. Hop on,” he said, passing her the picnic basket and squatting down.

Rey slipped her arms through the basket’s straps and hopped onto his back. She clutched onto his neck, careful not to impede his breathing. At the same time, his massive hands caught her under her knee.

When they were both comfortably settled, Kylo began the journey back to his car. With his center of gravity significantly shifted, Rey guessed he needed to dedicate more of his mental energy to not stumbling. He was maintaining an impressive pace, particularly with an extra 120 pounds strapped on his back, and she didn’t want to distract him too much by chattering. 

In lieu of conversation, then, Rey let her mind wander. She was currently contemplating the many muscles of Kylo Ren’s back and how nice it felt to be flush up against them as they flexed and strained. 

Her hands, which had been politely clutched for most of the ride, began to wander. One heading south until it brushed across his pec and stimulated his nipple slightly. Kylo tensed beneath her.

“Sorry,” she muttered, quickly withdrawing the hand. 

“It’s fine,” Kylo said, a strain in his voice. His hands shifted slightly, moving from behind her knees up her thigh.

Rey let out a breath. 

“I think we’re close,” Kylo told her, the physical exertion finally seeming to catch up to him, if his labored breathing was anything to go by.

“Oh, good,” she told him in a voice that she hadn’t meant to sound quite so breathy. 

Kylo was right. It only took a few more minutes for them to reach the parking lot, but in those final moments Rey had really ramped the tension up. The first time it had been a necessity. She felt herself slipping slightly and had been trying to get a firmer grip around his neck. But the friction she created, shifting her entire body up against his, had been nice.

All subsequent shifting had been less about necessity and more about the delicious feeling of rubbing her body up against his. If he had any idea what she was doing, he didn’t acknowledge it or ask her to stop. But the way his breath kept catching indicated he probably knew what she was doing. 

When he finally set her down next to the passenger side door she leaned in to hug him and whispered in his ear, “Thank you, Kylo.” 

Kylo just swallowed and nodded, scurrying away to his side of the car.

As they drove down the canyon and back to civilization Kylo took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What for?” Rey asked.

“The shoes. I wanted to give you something comfortable and practical. Instead, I gave you those.”

“Hey,” she said, reaching over the center console to place a hand on his knee. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

“But I insisted that you wear them when you wanted to wear your running shoes.” 

“My running shoes probably would have been just as disastrous,” she said. “Except instead of blisters, I would have gotten trench foot. Blisters heal. Amputation is forever.” 

Kylo’s lip quirked up at her joke. “Well you don’t have to wear them ever again,” he told her.

“What? Are you kidding me? These are the nicest shoes I’ve ever owned. I’m literally never going to stop wearing them once I break them in. I think I love them,” she reassured him, and the strangest part for Rey was she wasn’t lying. This wasn’t just something she was telling a daddy to keep him on the hook. She really was looking forward to breaking the shoes in and wearing them. 

Kylo smiled his closed-mouth smile as he continued driving.

 

* * *

 

For just a moment when they reached the city, Rey considered telling Kylo she would go home with him. After all, she was still very keyed up from that piggyback ride. But this was their first date, and everything she knew about the Sugar Bowl told her sugar babies did better when they made their daddies wait. 

So, she kept her mouth closed. And when Kylo dropped her off in front of her apartment, she kept her mouth closed again, this time to give him a chaste kiss goodbye. She lingered at his lips just long enough to keep him wanting.

Once she had hobbled barefoot up to her apartment, the first thing she did was grab her laptop and google “danner hiking boots red laces.”

While she waited for the page to load (the Starbucks’ wifi could be slow), she thought about Kylo and their date. She’d never really had a daddy listen to her the way Kylo seemed to. It was… strange. He’d taken her hiking based on a throwaway line in an email where she’d suggested they use their dates to find him a hobby. He’d gifted her hiking boots because she’d yelled at him about not liking $600 stilettos. He was attentive and thoughtful and…

… Rey would have to be more careful about what she said in front of him. Yes, she liked him more than most. And yes, she found him attractive. But he was still a rich man. A multi-millionaire! His massive accumulation of wealth meant less for everyone else. That made him inherently unethical. And Rey needed to be more careful not to reveal too much of herself to a man like that.

Her page finally loaded. Several images and shopping results for her exact boots popped up, albeit less dirty and blood-soaked than the ones currently sitting in their box on her coffee table. Clicking the first link, she saw the information she had come looking for: $360. 

Well, Kylo was right. That was significantly less than $600 Louboutins, even if Rey’s sensibilities were still offended by the level of extravagance.

It wasn’t like Rey hadn’t received many far more expensive gifts from her daddies. Hell, she’d received gifts valued at twenty times that amount. But it _was_ the most expensive gift Rey had ever planned to keep. She looked again at the scuffed boots, secure in the knowledge that she could never sell them.

She scrolled further on the page, noticing a review where a person claimed to have been wearing their boots for 25 years. That was good. Because whatever happened with Kylo, Rey planned to wear them at least that long.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some belated links: 
> 
> As always, my primary resources for all things Sugar Bowl: [Let's Talk Sugar](https://www.letstalksugar.com/) (especially their Sugar 101 Guide and forum) and [r/sugarlifestyleforum](https://www.reddit.com/r/sugarlifestyleforum/) (unlike LTS, not hosted by a sugarbaby website, so even more uncensored!)
> 
> Rey's hiking boots: [Danner Cascade Mountain Light Hiking Boots](https://www.danner.com/mountain-light-cascade.html.html) (also sold at Free People)
> 
> What is the [Gift Tax Exclusion](https://www.nerdwallet.com/blog/taxes/gift-tax-rate/)?
> 
> A Current Affairs article backing up Rey's position that being rich=being immoral: ["It's Basically Just Immoral to be Rich"](https://www.currentaffairs.org/2017/06/its-basically-just-immoral-to-be-rich)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo takes Rey to the ballet, but Rey asks to leave early. 😏

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey. Sometimes I draw. [Here](https://twitter.com/bazineapologist/status/1138190522692980736?s=20) is a link to my art for this chapter, in case you don't follow me on Twitter. 
> 
> (And [here](https://twitter.com/bazineapologist/status/1135932577926090752?s=20) is a link to some art for the last one.)
> 
> As always, many thanks to [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for looking over this chapter!!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182538674@N08/48331805467/in/dateposted-public/)

A few weeks passed and Rey and Kylo continued meeting for their four dates per month. After the debacle with the hiking boots, Kylo decided to put any further exploration of the outdoors on hold for a while. In the meantime, they met for more conventional dates, like dinner and drinks. Rey even convinced Maz to invest in a shuffleboard table, ostensibly because it was the hip alternative to pool and darts, but actually because Rey wanted an excuse to tease Kylo more about his age. It wasn’t quite the floor shuffleboard she had been imagining, but, judging by his groan when she asked him to play, Kylo still got that she was making fun of him.

For one of their dates, Kylo took Rey to an art gallery opening where they quickly discovered neither of them had much of an eye for visual art.

“I used to like the ballet,” Kylo told her, as they snuck out the back door, afraid to offend the probably very talented post-modern sculptor whose opening they were skipping out on.

“The ballet?” Rey asked, surprised.

“My mom used to drag me along to performances when I was a kid. She had season tickets and my dad flat out refused to go. I always acted like I hated it too, but,” he shrugged, “I didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t mind going to the ballet,” Rey told him, genuinely intrigued by the suggestion. Rey had never been to a real ballet before, but it seemed like something she might enjoy. She liked the occasional reality TV dancing competition. “I’d probably need a new dress,” she added as an afterthought, thinking this would be a good opportunity to restock her online store.

“Of course,” he readily agreed. “I’ll take care of everything. Just pick out whatever you want, a whole outfit if you’d like, and send me the details. I’ll make sure you get it.”

Rey smiled like the cat that got the cream. “Thank you, Kylo,” she said, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly on the cheek.

 

* * *

 

“Why are we looking at ugly dresses?” asked Poe.

Rey was at the Resistance headquarters again, eating her standard peanut butter sandwich in the company of Rose, while they both scrutinized Givenchy’s online offerings. The two women had made lunch plans after Finn, Rey’s regular lunch date, had canceled. Something about a National Lawyers Guild lunch event with free Thai food. And while Rey had crashed many a law school event for free pizza, as Finn had apologetically explained that morning, lunch events with the good catering were almost always limited to the law school community.

Rey didn’t mind. Even without the draw of free Thai food, she understood that law school needed to be Finn’s priority right now. After all, Rey was in grad school too (though in a much less competitive program, thank god!). She knew that her friendship with Finn was solid, and that a few years of distraction while they pursued their degrees and got settled into their respective careers wasn’t going to change that.

Poe, though, was a different story. Having never been to grad school, he couldn’t understand why his boyfriend had to spend every evening studying in the library this early in the semester. Between his courseload, clubs, and the all-important law review, Finn had precious little free time. But in Poe’s eyes, Finn just kept choosing ultimately unnecessary resume padders over their relationship. 

There was a tension between the two men that Rey hadn’t seen before in their three-year relationship. 

But despite seeing Poe less and less with Finn, Rey still saw him regularly at the Resistance. It had allowed the two of them to maintain their friendship, whatever temporary strangeness was going on between him and Finn. And Rey had no doubt that it _was_ temporary. Finn and Poe were disgustingly in love. Anyone could see it.

Rey was pretty sure if it hadn’t been for Finn and Poe continuously shoving the reality of their love down Rey’s throat over the last three years, she might have doubted the existence of love entirely. As it was, she just doubted her ability to ever experience it.

“Rey’s going to the ballet,” Rose answered Poe without turning away from her computer screen. “We’re trying to find something for her to wear.”

“Sure,” said Poe, pulling up a chair. “But why are the dresses so ugly? Is the dress code for the ballet ‘trash bag chic’?”

Rey laughed, knowing exactly the unstructured black shift dress Poe was narrowing in on. He wasn’t wrong. It did look a bit like a $2,000 Hefty bag. 

“Rey’s daddy is paying so we’re only looking at brands with high resale value. The pickings are… slim.” 

“An understatement,” Poe replied. “If she wears any of these, she won’t have him for very long.”

“He has a point,” Rey told Rose. “I can’t wear anything we’ve looked at so far. Versace was all too loud. Burberry and Alexander McQueen too schoolmarm-y. And now Givenchy too… ‘trash bag chic.’ Who’s next on the list?”

“Christian Siriano,” Rose said pulling up the designer's online store. Immediately, Rey was relieved to see a few fitted cocktail dresses mixed in among the more formal and high fashion offerings.

“Oh, these are better,” Poe said.

“Much better,” Rey agreed. “What’s the price point?”

“Most are at least a grand,” Rose told her after a moment of perusal, her voice suddenly thick with disapproval. “Imagine spending that much money on a dress they’ll probably wear only once when there are children all over this city that don’t know where their next meal—”

“Wait,” interjected Poe before Rose could really get going on her rant. “I thought you said your daddy was into buying you more practical presents. Won’t he be surprised by you asking for a $1000 gown?”

“Yeah… that was my fault. I accidentally told him I thought Louboutins were a waste of money. This is me trying to course correct.”

“I kind of got the vibe you _liked_ that he listened and bought you ‘reasonably priced’ hiking boots?” Poe said, pointedly eyeing the tan leather and red laces currently covering Rey’s feet.

Rose scoffed. “In what world are $300 shoes reasonable?”

Rey squirmed under Poe’s and Rose’s scrutiny. “I did like it,” she admitted. “That’s the problem. The _real_ me liked it. But sugar baby me would rather have something I can immediately resell. Now that Kylo is my only daddy, I won’t be able to run my multiples scheme. That means I’m probably going to have to actually wear everything he gives me, which means a lower resale price, which means I’m going to need to amp up the initial value of the gifts.”

“But won’t he think it’s weird if you’re suddenly into expensive designer clothing after you already told him you think it’s dumb?” 

“I really don’t think he’ll question it,” Rey said. “When you’re as rich as Kylo, there’s not much difference between $60 and $600. It’s all pocket change. But if he does ask, I was thinking I could just tell him I have a very specific objection to absurdly expensive shoes. Shoes are hard to resell anyway,” she shrugged. 

Poe gave her a look. “Do you really think that will work?” he asked, his tone implying that only someone very dumb or very trusting would buy Rey’s excuse. Kylo didn’t really strike Rey as either. Mostly he just seemed very into Rey, which she definitely planned to use to her advantage. “You haven’t met Kylo, yet,” Rey smiled. “It will work.” 

“What about this one?” Rose asked, drawing their attention back to their task. She had pulled up a violently lime-colored dress covered in jewel clusters. “It’s kind of funky,” she said.

Rey sidestepped offering an opinion on the monstrosity by instead asking, “Can we look at something black?” She had noticed Kylo’s definite preference for the shade over the last few weeks.

“What about this one?” Rose asked, this time pulling up a dress with a high collar, asymmetrical hem, and liberal use of fringe. 

Rey wrinkled her nose, feeling like she was learning a lot about Rose’s rather _eclectic_ taste in clothing. Probably a good thing that this type of conspicuous consumption directly conflicted with Rose’s core beliefs. “I think it might confuse him?” Rey said.

“Wait,” Poe said. “Do people even wear cocktail dresses to the ballet?”

His question was met with silence.

Just then, Leia Organa strode onto the large open floor of the Resistance headquarters. She was a small woman, maybe just an inch or two above five foot, but she carried herself with the confidence of a woman much taller. Leia knew how to command attention and take up space in a way that Rey fiercely admired. Really, Rey admired everything about the woman.

Leia had been born into wealth, a trait that ordinarily would have been a dealbreaker for Rey in terms of personal heroes, except that Leia was different. At nineteen, after the death of her adoptive parents, Leia had become the sole beneficiary of the Organa family fortune, not to mention half of the Naberrie family fortune, courtesy of her deceased biological mother.

Where most wealthy people enjoyed their fortunes for many years before finally growing a conscience in their middle- or old age and donating large sums to various charitable causes, Leia began the process of dissemination almost immediately. And with a fortune as vast as hers, earning as much interest as hers, giving money away was a full-time job. 

Leia had become like a modern-day Carnegie, minus the whole robber baron backstory. The Resistance was the culmination of her philanthropic work, a vast network of community resources, academics, and activists working to reduce income inequality in Chandrila and beyond.

Rey loved her.

She watched in awe as Leia’s surprisingly long strides took her right past their huddle. “Poe, Rose, Rey,” Leia greeted them each in passing.

“Hey, Leia,” Poe said, halting her advance across the room. “Have you ever been to the ballet?”

Leia took a step closer and crossed her arms across her chest. “Many times,” she said in her signature raspy alto. “My mother Breha was a devoted patron. In fact, the foundation I founded in her name is still the leading supporter of the Chandrila Ballet. They have a scholarship named in her honor.”

Poe grinned. “Rey’s new sugar daddy is taking her to the ballet next weekend and she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to wear.”

“Next weekend? So he’s taking you to the premiere of ‘An Evening of One-Act Ballets’?” Leia asked Rey.

It was the first time Rey was hearing the name of the performance, if that was even the one Kylo was taking her to. “Probably?” she replied. “Honestly, Leia, he just told me we were going to the ballet. He said he used to go with his mom all the time when he was younger, and he’d like to see one again.”

Leia smiled to herself. “I used to take my son to the ballet, too,” she said, voice thick with nostalgia. “He hated it, but I hoped I was giving him some appreciation for the art form. I’m glad to hear the approach worked on somebody’s son, at least.” Rey watched as the uncharacteristic sentimentality dissipated from Leia’s face like fog. In a moment she was back to her no-nonsense demeanor. “Well, it sounds like he’s probably taking you to the premiere. People wear all kinds of clothing to regular performances, but premieres are different. People dress up for premieres. What are your options?” she asked, stepping up to the computer screen.

Rose moved out of the way so Leia could peruse the webpage more easily. “No gowns,” she Leia them. “That’s too dressed up. Any of the shorter dresses should be fine, but stay away from loud patterns and neon. You want to look stylish but demure.”

Poe gave Rose a pointed look, no doubt thinking of her “funky” lime green suggestion.

“Thank you, Leia,” Rey said, zeroing in on a simple black sheath dress, the only embellishment ruffles on the straps and on the skirt. “Will you be at the premiere?”

Leia sighed. “Unfortunately, no,” she told Rey. “I haven’t been to the ballet for the past three seasons. I’ve been too preoccupied with work to even think about it. But I’d like to hear what you think! Carmen Suite has always been a particular favorite of mine!”

 

* * *

 

Kylo had Rey’s dress a couple of days before the premiere. Rey and Finn slowly unzipped the garment bag, eager to catch their first glimpse at the four-figure garment. 

“It looks… like any other dress,” Finn said, his enthusiasm deflating like a balloon. “In fact, I think I liked the blue dress you wore to graduation better.” 

“The one I got from the clearance bin at Old Navy? With the tiny pink flamingos stitched all over it?”

“That’s the one!”

“Yeah,” Rey agreed. “I liked that one too. But this dress is pretty!”

“I guess,” Finn shrugged. “What are you wearing with it?”

Rey smiled, thinking of the vintage clutch she’d found for practically nothing on eBay. If Rey had been the type of person to believe in things like fate, she might have attributed her discovery of the clutch, just moments after the sale went live, to those forces. But since she wasn’t that type of person, Rey just considered it a lucky fluke to have stumbled across the accessory while checking out her resale competition.

“Wait until you see the bag I bought. I liked it so much I used my own money.”

“You bought your own bag? Why? I thought you said Kylo offered to buy you a whole outfit?”

“Oh, he did. And I definitely took advantage of that offer. Poe helped me pick out a pair of earrings that were practically extortion,” she told him as she retreated into her closet to grab the novelty clutch. “But I didn’t want him to see this—” she held up the bag for him to admire, “—until our date.” 

“Is that supposed to be… D2-R2? The little robot from Galaxy Battles?”

“Yep!” Rey excitedly exclaimed. “Although, I think he’s actually a droid. When I was doing some research, Reddit seemed pretty firm on the distinction.” Rey ignored Finn’s exaggerated eyeroll as she continued, “It’s from a Kate Spade x Galaxy Battles collaboration that they did right after the prequels came out. The seller clearly had no idea what they had or what they were doing because they way underpriced it. I almost felt bad,” she grimaced. “But I’m going to make a killing when I repost it, and I promised Rose we’d donate all the money to a school lunch program.”

“But why is it a surprise for Kylo? And since when are you a fan of Galaxy Battles? When I asked you to go see Episode 8 with me, you said no because you’d never seen any of the other movies.”

“In my defense, you’d already seen it in theaters three times, the studio behind it is the literal poster child for the evils of unregulated capitalism, and Poe made me promise that I wouldn’t enable you.”

“It’s the best one!” Finn cried, defensively. “It’s not Galaxy Battles’ fault that they got bought out by an evil corporation! And don’t even get me started on Poe. He thinks that I don’t know that he saw it twice behind my back with Snap, but I know. Get a couple of Maz’s margaritas in Snap and he’ll sing like a canary!”

“Well, I still haven’t seen it,” Rey said. “Or any of them. I’m not the Galaxy Battles fan, Kylo is. Or, at least, he was,” Rey blushed slightly. “Remember how I told you about Trivia Night at Maz’s?”

Finn’s eyes narrowed at the reminder. “Didn’t you say he was kind of cagey that? And everything else related to his past? Like he was trying to hide something? Or forget it?”

“I mean…”

“Rey! You’re such a troll! Are you trying to drive off your whale daddy?”

“No, of course not!” Rey insisted. “It just seemed like something he used to be really into! I’m trying to help him rediscover another beloved former pastime.” There was a long pause. “And also I want to see the look on his face when he notices it,” she added with a smirk.

 

* * *

 

On the night of the ballet, Kylo didn’t notice Rey’s clutch right away. From the way his eyes moved up and down her lithe form, it seemed like he was too busy noticing every other part of her. 

“You look beautiful,” he told her when she opened her front door, and again as they walked out to the car he had ordered for the evening. (He hadn’t wanted the hassle of parking.)

Kylo had told her some variation of that sentiment on every date they’d been on so far, but there was something extra earnest in his voice tonight. Rey’s outfit wasn’t actually _that_ different from her usual cocktail attire, but from past experience, she knew sugar daddies often took a perverse pride in seeing their sugar babies all dressed up in overpriced duds they’d provided. 

Or maybe she was being too hard on him. Maybe what Kylo was appreciating was the genuine excitement emanating from Rey at the prospect of seeing her first ballet.

Either way, the way his intense gaze stayed fixed on her or his hand kept lingering on her lower back as he led her around the theater lobby suggested that something had shifted between them. 

And Kylo wasn’t the only one taking every opportunity to admire his date. Rey was admiring too. She’d seen Kylo in a jacket plenty of times. A blazer over a black sweater or shirt seemed to be his signature look. But she’d never seen him in a full suit and tie before, not since the tiny photo on his sugar daddy profile page. There was something about seeing the buttons strain to contain his massiveness up close and in-person that made Rey feel a bit lightheaded. 

“Is your purse supposed to be D2-R2?” Kylo asked, interrupting her about-to-be-X-rated imaginings. His brow was furrowed and he was frowning at her. 

“Oh, yes,” she told him, holding up the clutch to give him a better look. “I saw it and it reminded me of you. I thought you would like it.” She smiled at him.

“His radar eye lens is all wrong and the logic display bezels are the wrong proportion,” Kylo told her matter-of-factly. “So I wasn’t sure. Is it another knock-off?”

Rey’s smile had taken a turn for the smirk at “display bezels.” This was way better than any reaction she had imagined. Kylo was nerdsplaining Galaxy Battles character design to her! “Oh, no,” she told him. “It’s officially licensed merchandise. A collaboration with a handbag designer.”

Kylo scoffed, muttering something about “lazy cash grab by the parent company” and “not real fans.”

“You know I’ve never seen them,” she said.

“Seen what?”

“Any of the Galaxy Battles movies,” she explained.

Kylo looked at her with a level of shock she considered wholly outsized to what she was confessing. She’d told him she hadn’t seen a few movies, not that she’d killed a man. She suppressed her eye roll. “I was thinking maybe you could show them to me, sometime,” she said.

“You want to watch them all? With me?”

“We could make a weekend of it,” she suggested. “Just you and I, holed up together in your apartment for a couple of days.” 

“I… okay,” he agreed simply.

“Okay,” she repeated back to him, smiling again. “I think people are taking their seats. We should,” she gestured toward the theater doors. 

“Oh yes,” he said, placing his hand back on her lower back and guiding her to their box seats. 

“Kylo, these seats are so nice!” Rey exclaimed as she sat down on the plush red velvet, one of only five seats in the box. 

Kylo sat beside her. “I wanted you to experience it the same way I used to,” he explained. “My family was—is—a major donor, so we always had a box.” 

“Is this your family’s box?” she asked, suddenly worried Kylo’s relatives were going to fill the remaining three seats and then Rey would be forced to interact with them. God, what if one of them was his mother? She did not do families!

“No,” Kylo said, tone firm. “This is my box. I purchased it for the season, in case we wanted to come again.” 

_Of course, he did_ , Rey thought, hiding her annoyance by pretending to read the printed program. Three empty seats that could have gone to others. Someone who’d never experienced the ballet, but who would appreciate the cultural experience. Maybe a child with a dream of being a ballerina. Or an elderly person in care, wanting to relive their glory days. Rey wondered if she could convince Kylo to donate the extra tickets, or maybe sell them and donate the proceeds to an art-focused charity.

Before she could say anything to Kylo, however, the lights went down and a hush fell over the theatre. 

According to the program, “An Evening of One-Act Ballets,” performed by the Chandrila Ballet Theatre, consisted of three short ballets: Carmen Suite, Forgotten Lands, and Études, with an intermission between the first and second performances. Rey knew vaguely that Carmen Suite was based on an opera, and she was pretty sure she’d heard some of the music before, but beyond that, she was going in blind. 

As soon as the curtain lifted, revealing a single dancer on the stage, a semi-circle of silhouettes behind her, Rey was mesmerized. The dancer moved so effortlessly, lifting her leg up to her head like it was no trouble at all. Rey wondered if she could learn to do that. Maybe she should take a barre class? She could think of several scenarios where being able to lift her leg like that would be very handy, most of them involving nudity and… Kylo? Yes, the large man in her fantasy definitely had a Kylo-like shape about him… 

_Oh god_ , Rey thought as a male dancer came out on stage for the first time and she saw his costume. She had known that male dancers wore tights, but she hadn’t expected them to be quite so… revealing. She could see everything. Well, not everything, because she assumed that whatever was happening up front was a cup, but she did have a very clear view of his quads, calves, and glutes. _Did Kylo’s legs look like that?_ she wondered. _Did his butt?_ She’d only ever seen him wearing looser pants, but he certainly didn’t seem like the kind of man who skipped leg day. 

The next several dances followed a similar pattern for Rey. She watched the dancers’ blending of artistry and athleticism with awe, but she was also experiencing another, baser emotion. How come no one had mentioned to Rey how sexy ballet was? The way the male dancer lifted the female dancer like she weighed almost nothing. The way the female dancer wrapped herself around her partner, lifting her leg to rest it on his shoulder. 

_Did Carmen seriously just rub her ass up again Don José? Like, as part of the choreography?_

“What do you think so far?” she heard a deep voice murmur in her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin. Rey felt a tell-tale fluttering between her legs. 

“It’s a lot more… sensual than I was expecting,” she whispered back, unable to tear her eyes away from the two dancers clearly engaged in a seduction on stage. 

“It was a collaboration between a Cuban choreographer and a Russian composer, created for the composer’s prima ballerina wife,” Kylo told her. “It was performed only once, by the Bolshoi Ballet in the 60s, before being banned by the Soviet Culture Minister for being too erotic.”

“Too erotic?” Rey squeaked, biting her lip. “How do you know all this?” 

“It was one of my mom’s favorites,” Kylo explained. “Oh, watch this part.”

Kylo settled back into his seat as the ballet continued, but Rey could still feel the ghost of his breath on the sensitive skin near her ear. She felt herself getting more and more flustered with each passing moment. Finally, as she watched Carmen dance between Don José, Escamillo, and Fate, she couldn’t help herself anymore. 

Rey reached out to place her hand on Kylo’s thigh, feeling it jump beneath her fingers when she made contact. She waited to see if Kylo would do or say anything to stop her. When he didn’t, she moved her hand further up. And then further again. Right as she was about to reach the top of his thigh, Rey heard Kylo clear his throat and felt his hand rest on top of hers, stilling it but also trapping it against his thigh.

Rey squeezed her own thighs together as she watched Carmen die in Don José’s arms. The curtain lowered and the audience burst into a round of applause. 

When the lights came up for intermission, Rey turned to see Kylo staring at her instead of at the stage. 

She looked back, both of them holding the other’s gaze for far longer than was comfortable in public. Finally, Kylo broke the impasse by glancing toward the theater lobby. “Can I get you a drink—”

Rey didn’t let him finish. “Take me home.”

“What?” he asked.

“Take me home. Right now,” Rey said.

Kylo was wide-eyed. “This is just the intermission. There are still two more performances before the end.” 

“I know,” Rey told him. “But I think you should take me home anyway. To _your_ home,” she added, just to make sure there was no missing her meaning.

Kylo nodded, slowly at first and then more vigorously. “We’ll have to take a cab,” he told her, getting up. “The car service won’t be here for at least another hour.”

 

* * *

 

Rey knew she probably should have been embarrassed by how shameless she was acting in the backseat of a taxi cab, but in the moment she couldn’t be bothered. 

As soon as Kylo had slid in beside her, Rey had launched herself at him, taking advantage of his agape expression to lick the inside of his mouth. After sitting through a full act of sexually tense ballet, Rey was too horny to sit primly in the backseat, her only relief squeezing her thighs together for the duration of the ride. No, Rey had needed Kylo immediately, if not for the _grand pas de deux_ , at least for the _entrée._

Kylo, initially too surprised by Rey’s mauling to have any reaction, was now crowding her over to the opposite side of the bench seat, matching her lechery kiss-for-kiss. She reveled in the feeling of his massive body looming above hers, caging her up against the door. But no matter how much Rey liked the feeling, it wasn’t in her nature to submit for long.

Just as she was reaching up to sink her hands into his dark locks and wrestle back some of the control, their driver grumbled loudly, interrupting the proceedings. Kylo pulled back to give the man his apartment address and to repeatedly assure him they would not desecrate the backseat. 

With the promise of a large tip if he shut the hell up and left them alone to make out, the driver focused on driving. Kylo returned his attention to Rey and they promptly resumed their now driver-sanctioned furious kissing/power struggle. Rey was careful not to go any further than some very light dry humping, especially since she kept catching the driver’s eye in the rear-view mirror. Rey couldn’t muster any outrage over the driver watching them. They were doing this in _his cab_ , after all. He deserved an eyeful… just not too much of an eyeful.

“We’re here,” their driver eventually said in the most longsuffering tone Rey had ever heard. “Please, get out now.” 

Rey watched as Kylo shoved a wadded up $100 bill at the man before conspicuously readjusting the front of his slacks and pulling Rey along with him out of the backseat. Rey barely managed to pull her eyes away from Kylo’s crotch long enough to grab her D2-R2 clutch before the driver was pulling away.

Rey kept thinking about the size of Kylo’s bulge as they passed the doorman, made out some more in the elevator, and stumbled their way into what must have been Kylo’s penthouse loft. Rey was too focused on the goal of undressing him and verifying her bulge-based estimates to really take in her surroundings, but she was sure the loft was probably very nice. The Egyptian cotton sheets she was currently kneeling on while unzipping his designer suit pants certainly were. 

Right as she was about to pull him out of his Hugo Boss boxer briefs, Kylo reached out to still her hand.  
“You don’t want me to…” Rey asked, tearing her eyes away from the last remaining piece of clothing hiding his delicious body. Kylo was looking down at her with dark, hooded eyes. 

“Can you take off your dress?” he asked, his voice as strained as the fabric holding down his erection.

“Yeah, sure,” Rey said, immediately reaching behind her to try and struggle out of her $1,190 cocktail dress. 

Kylo watched her fumble for a long minute before they both seemed to come to their senses. “Let me—” he offered at the same time Rey asked, “Can you—” They laughed, the awkwardness of the whole exchange dampening the mood slightly.

Rey was glad. Her formerly lust-addled brain was now clear enough to remind her to lay her dress carefully across a chair, rather than drop it in a heap on the floor as she had with Kylo’s clothing. She wondered for a moment if she should go gather them up… No, that would _definitely_ kill the mood. Same with asking for a hanger. The chair would be fine. 

She turned back to Kylo who was practically trembling as he took her in, his eyes wide and admiring. _Oh, that’s right_ , Rey thought, she was wearing an expensive lingerie set, gifted to her by a previous daddy. It was all sheer black lace and cheeky bows. She’d never actually worn it with the other daddy (they hadn’t had that kind of relationship), but despite its “Brand New. Never Worn” condition, she hadn’t managed to offload it on her website.

So she had worn it for Kylo, on the off-chance that tonight would be the night they do what “two adults in an exclusive relationship” do.

“God, look at you,” Kylo breathed reverently.

“Do you like it, daddy?” Rey asked in her most seductive tone. 

Kylo practically recoiled. “Uh, can we…? Is that something…? Can you just… Kylo? Call me Kylo?”

Rey’s eyes were wide watching a whole panorama of repressed emotions flash across his face as he struggled to get a thought out. She should have known not to touch daddy kink with someone with so many daddy issues. “Yeah, that’s fine,” she reassured him.

“You’re sure? It’s not something you need? Because I could probably…” He gulped.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t. It’s not… I have daddy issues, too!” The last part came out without Rey thinking, and she slapped a hand over her mouth in horror. 

Kylo looked distinctly uncomfortable now. His brow furrowed and mouth twisted into a grimace. 

“Can I suck your cock?” Rey blurted out. Maybe a part of her was trying to distract him from her overly honest faux pas, but a bigger part of her had been thinking about blowing him since the cab. Sugar relationship or not, Rey had her boundaries and she wouldn’t offer to do anything that made her uncomfortable.

Kylo looked like he was in physical pain when he answered. “Uh, yeah,” he told her. “That sounds… good.” 

At his response, Rey was across the room in three strides, pushing him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him, and finally, _finally_ pulling off his boxer briefs. His dick, free from its last confines, stood proudly erect, thick, and leaning slightly to his right. Rey’s first thought was that it bore a striking resemblance to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Her second thought was that there was no way she’d fit the whole thing in her mouth. This would need to be a handjob-blowjob combo.

Her hand and mouth started working him in tandem and Kylo grunted from somewhere north of her head. He sounded like he was really enjoying her work, letting loose a continuous series of grunts and moans and “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck yes, sweetheart. Is it okay if I call you, sweetheart?”

Rey hated pet names. They implied a level of intimacy that she hadn’t had with a sexual partner… ever? She let Finn platonically call her Peanut and that was it. Even Poe’s numerous attempts at nicknames were always met with icy glares. Rey-Rey? Rey of Sunshine? Reyby? Pass! (Okay, so maybe she’d used the last one for her Sugar Baby email address but, in her defense, she had been very drunk at the time.) But there was something about _Kylo_ using an endearment that made it acceptable to her.

Rey was sure it was just about the timbre of that deep, sexy voice.

“Rey, sweetheart, I don’t want to come yet,” he babbled, carefully guiding her off of him. Rey allowed herself to be guided because she didn’t want him to come yet either. She wanted him balls-deep inside her when he finally let go.

Kylo sat up and reached for her. 

“I want you to fuck me,” she said.

“I—” He swallowed and Rey distractedly watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Can I kiss you first?” he asked.

Rey surged forward, happy for more of the licentious kissing that had kickstarted phase two of their evening. Not to mention that she liked the idea of Kylo tasting himself on her tongue. But he pushed her back a little. “Softly,” he whispered, peppering her neck and jaw with little kisses. When his mouth finally met hers again it was to kiss her deeply and slowly, nothing left on his side of their earlier urgency. Odd, since neither of them had actually had an orgasm yet. Rey was still feeling pretty urgent in her need to get off, but what Kylo was doing was almost… romantic?

He slowly maneuvered her back onto the bed, never stopping the sweet kisses. It was… not at all what Rey was hoping for. She wasn’t really into missionary. Or a lot of eye-contact. Or any kind of non-athletic sex with someone as young and fit as Kylo. 

The next time they broke their kiss to take a breath, Rey jumped in with, “I want to ride you.” Kylo pulled back to look at her face. He stared at her for a minute before saying, “Okay. Whatever you’d like.” 

“Okay,” Rey agreed, propping herself up on her elbows. 

“Right now?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” she replied.

“You don’t want me to…?”

“What?”

“Get you ready?”

“Oh, I’m ready,” she said. “Super wet.” She grabbed his hand and placed it over her panties.

Kylo whimpered, no doubt feeling how she’d already soaked through the scrap of lace. “You don’t want me to… stretch you first?”

“Stretch me?”

“I’m kind of… big?”

“Oh,” Rey said, considering. He _was_ quite a bit bigger than she was used to. And she definitely didn’t mind the idea of Kylo “prepping” her with his fingers and tongue, making her come all over his face… But she was also feeling pretty impatient for him to get inside her already. She’d already brought him to the brink with her mouth. She kind of felt like it was time for both of them to get off already. “I like the stretch,” she told him. 

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

Rey rolled off the bed to shrug out of her lingerie. Kylo watched her fixedly, despite the fact that the sheer lingerie had hidden nothing. “Get on your back,” she directed. “You won’t hurt me. I’ll take my time. I’ll have control.” 

He nodded, getting into position. Rey immediately climbed on top of him and lined herself up.

“You’re sure you don’t need me to—hhhnnnggg,” he cried out as she lowered herself down much more ambitiously than she probably should have. He was right, it was a lot. _He_ was a lot. But it also felt really nice to be stuffed this full. She eased up a little before letting herself back down, slower this time, getting used to him. 

This was good. Better. Kylo wasn’t even looking at her face as she bounced up and down on top of him, riding his cock. He was too busy staring at her tits. 

“Touch them,” she told him breathlessly.

He did, thoroughly exploring them with his hand before leaning forward to do the same with his tongue. It felt so good. Rey could feel her orgasm building.

“Now touch my clit,” she commanded and, again, Kylo complied. “Yes, just like that. Yes. Oh, God! Keep going! You’re gonna make me come! Yes, yes, yes, God, Kylo, YEEESSS!” she cried out as a wave of toe-curling pleasure finally crashed over her. It was intense enough that she lost her ability to hold herself upright and collapsed onto Kylo. It wasn’t exactly a soft landing, but Rey wasn’t complaining as she nuzzled into his brawny chest. Kylo wrapped his arms around her and began rubbing slow circles into her back as she came down from her high. 

It felt like a while before Rey regained her ability to think or move, but when she did, she realized Kylo’s cock was still buried deep inside her and he’d had yet to come. The man either had amazing self-control or the sensitivity of a much older man. And judging by the strain on his brow, it was the first one. 

Rey pushed herself up to start riding him again, but Kylo stilled her hips. “Can we switch?” he asked. “Me on top?” 

Rey nodded languidly. She was expecting just a few quick pumps before Kylo released into her but, instead, he slowly thrust in and out, over and over again. She scrunched her eyes closed, hoping to avoid whatever intimacy he was obviously trying to build with her. It wouldn’t work They were fucking. This was _just_ fucking. She was happy to give Kylo the girlfriend experience, up to a point, but she didn’t feel comfortable pretending like the sex was anything more than what it was: a simple physical connection between two people who were obviously very attracted to one another. No feelings. No strings.

With her eyes closed, Rey became aware of another orgasm building inside her. With her legs spread wide and him on his knees, Kylo could get deep with each thrust, his pubic bone rubbing deliciously against her clit. She moaned loudly.

Suddenly, she felt Kylo’s large hand stroking her cheek. “Look at me, Rey,” he pleaded with her. “Open your eyes and look at me, sweetheart. I want to watch you come again.” 

Kylo had been so good about following Rey’s direction when she was on top that she couldn’t reconcile denying him now. Slowly, she opened her eyes. He was staring at her even more intensely than she had imagined. His gaze was almost worshipful. 

Rey fought every instinct to flinch away from that look. Sex wasn’t supposed to be like this, this intimate. They weren’t in love. _She_ wasn’t in love. This wasn’t what she needed. Except, within just a few moments, she was coming again. 

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. Eyes right here,” Kylo coaxed as her pussy clenched around him. One thrust, then another, and Kylo was finally reaching his peak. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back. 

“Look at me, Kylo!” Rey cried as he moaned her name. He was looking directly at her as she felt his warm spend fill her up.

They didn’t break eye contact until Kylo collapsed beside her. 

_What the fuck was that?_ Rey thought.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terrible at providing links but I'm going to try going forward, as well as adding some links to previous chapters! 
> 
> My primary resources for all things Sugar Bowl: [Let's Talk Sugar](https://www.letstalksugar.com/) (especially their Sugar 101 Guide and forum) and [r/sugarlifestyleforum](https://www.reddit.com/r/sugarlifestyleforum/) (unlike LTS, not hosted by a sugarbaby website, so even more uncensored!)
> 
> Where I get most of my information and inspiration for Rey's resale hustle: [The 2019 ThredUp Resale Report](https://www.thredup.com/resale)
> 
> My inspiration for the $2,000 Hefty bag comment (I actually think it's kind of nice!): [Zig-Zag Pleated Short Dress in Jersey](https://www.givenchy.com/america/en/zig-zag-pleated-short-dress-in-jersey/BW20G33Z1D-001.html?cgid=Evening_dresses_W#sz=21&start=1)
> 
> Rey's ballet dress: [Christian Siriano's Embrodiered Ruffle Detail Dress](https://store.christiansiriano.com/product/embroidered-ruffle-detail-dress) (Christian Siriano is ThredUp's #7 $$$$$ brand with the best resale value)
> 
> A link to the very real high fashion Disney collabs, including a Givenchy x Bambi collection (??): ["A Look Back at Disney's Best Designer Collaborations"](https://www.crfashionbook.com/fashion/g25379306/disney-designer-collaborations-fashion/?slide=7) (The Space Battles x Kate Spade collab is unfortunately not real... yet!)
> 
> Information on [Carmen Suite](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmen_Suite_\(ballet\)), the controversial one-act ballet based on Georges Bizet's Opera
> 
> And a link to the Bolshoi Ballet performing [Carmen Suite](https://youtu.be/yJlyGNitxz0) in its entirety.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey deals with the aftereffects of sleeping with Kylo. Finn and Rey enjoy a night out, just the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's been a hot minute since I last updated, here's a recap:
> 
> In the last chapter, Rey and Kylo slept together for the first time. Rey tried her best to avoid having it mean anything, but Kylo's signature intensity got in her way. Rey and Kylo shared some intimate eye contact during the act, and Rey had some very complicated feelings about the whole thing.
> 
> As always, many thanks to [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for looking over this chapter!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182538674@N08/48331805322/in/dateposted-public/)

Rey and Kylo were cuddling. 

It was fine. Rey had clocked Kylo as a cuddler way back on their first meet and greet. The impression had only been strengthened the more time she spent with him. And after the sex they had, Rey would have to have been completely obtuse to not know that Kylo would want an extended cuddling session. 

It didn’t matter that Rey was still freaking out about the sex they’d just had. This wasn’t about her. The allowance and gifts were about her, the cuddling was about Kylo. Rey’s feelings only mattered to the extent that she wasn’t feeling coerced. And she wasn’t. She was perfectly willing to cuddle with Kylo as part of their mutually beneficial exchange, even if she wasn’t personally getting anything out of it.

The fact that Rey fit perfectly, tucked under Kylo’s chin, was irrelevant. The way his body kept her warm without any need for the fluffy duvet, shoved to the foot of his California King at some point during their coupling, was immaterial. The slow curl of desire that spread through her as he lazily kneaded her bare ass with his giant paw-like hands was inconsequential…

Nope, there was nothing in this for Rey. The benefit was all Kylo’s.

Rey shut her eyes, definitely _not_ to revel in the feeling of being wrapped up in Kylo’s arms. No, Rey was trying to shut out the way Kylo kept gazing at her as if she were a somebody. To him, at least.

Rey was a nobody. She knew this. Finn had been the first person in Rey’s life to ever give a damn about her. And, even now, the circle of people she mattered to stayed small. Poe would probably notice if Rey ceased to exist. Rose. Leia might notice the sudden lack of Rey’s donations. Probably a handful of her professors and fellow MPA students might care if she suddenly disappeared. But that was it. Until Rey graduated and did something truly worthwhile with her life, the world would be practically unchanged by Rey’s presence in it. 

With that depressing thought, Rey nuzzled deeper into the warm body lying beside her. Some more instinctual part of her was probably trying to find a mooring, some comfort or connection that would reassure her she was here and that she mattered. Surface Rey, though, told herself that she was just burying her face in Kylo’s chest so she wouldn't have to see him looking at her anymore. 

They stayed like that for several more minutes, one of Kylo’s hands still on Rey’s ass, the other gently caressing up and down her spine. She could feel her body calming. For the first time since Kylo finished, Rey wasn’t thinking about how soon she could make her exit without upsetting him.

Their embrace was eventually interrupted by the distant sound of a phone vibrating. Rey sat up, recognizing the hum of her janky old smartphone. 

Kylo let out a whine as she broke out of his arm-prison (although, if Rey was being honest, his arms were starting to feel more like a shelter than a prison). “I should check that,” she told him, slipping out of bed. He reluctantly complied, dropping his arms mid-reach. 

She could feel his eyes on her naked body as she walked across the room and paused in the doorway. Kylo’s discarded dress shirt lay in a heap on the floor. She leaned over to pick it up, giving Kylo a clear view of his favorite body part right before she covered it up with his shirt. 

To Rey’s surprise, Kylo hummed approvingly as she buttoned a few of the buttons. “It looks much better on you,” he said.

“Better than me naked?” she teased. 

“Oh, no,” he said. “I still prefer you naked. But it looks much better on you than on me. There’s something really sexy about seeing you in my clothes, knowing you're comfortable enough to just throw on something of mine. It feels… intimate.” He smiled at her.

Rey looked away. She had grabbed the shirt because she hadn’t wanted to walk around his penthouse completely naked and because she knew button-up shirts were a cliched fantasy for a lot of guys. Of course, he had to go and ruin it by making it mean something. Rey cleared her throat awkwardly. “In that case,” she told him on her way out of the bedroom, “I’ll take a t-shirt next time. Your laundry service uses too much starch.”

 

* * *

 

Rey’s call had long since gone to voicemail, so she took a few moments to wander around Kylo’s loft, taking in everything she had missed during her first distracted pass-through. The modern, minimalist design aesthetic was exactly what she had been expecting, each part of the open floor plan done up in shades of black and white. 

It was a beautiful apartment. Sophisticated. Pristine. But Rey was surprised that someone like Kylo, who seemed to feel everything so deeply, was happy in a place this cold. It looked like a furniture showroom, except worse, because even a showroom usually had a faux plant or a stock photo in a frame. Kylo had neither. The only evidence of habitation was the clothing they had strewn about on their way to Kylo’s bed. 

She saw her clutch, phone tucked inside, peeking out from under a steel and leather coffee table, but Rey ignored it in favor or more wandering. In the kitchen she found a few more signs of humanity: a Vitamix on the black marble countertop, a few tubs of protein powder in an otherwise empty pantry, and—oh god—was that Soylent in his fridge? 

Having grown up food-insecure, nothing offended Rey’s sensibilities more than the overpriced, beige meal-replacement shakes. 

It wasn’t that Rey didn’t understand the concept of being too busy to eat. There was a reason fast and convenience foods were so ubiquitous in low-income areas; people needed quick calories after getting off a double shift or before rushing off to their second or third job.

What offended Rey was the idea that tech bros were somehow “too busy” building their Snapchat filters and $400 wi-fi connected juice presses to stop and think about eating solid food. Their time was apparently _so valuable_ that they couldn’t spare even five minutes to do what every other human did multiple times per day. And then they were trying to market these $3 “meals” to regular people. As if $3 for tasteless nutrition sludge was a good deal! The only people who could possibly think that were people who had no idea about the price of rice and beans.

Rey shoved the refrigerator doors closed with a huff, the rubber gaskets preventing her from getting any sort of satisfying slam. She needed a drink. Something stronger than Soylent.

“Kylo,” she shouted from the kitchen. “Can I have a drink?” 

“You can look in the wine room,” he called back, sounding sleepy. 

The wine room? Kylo had an entire room for wine? Rey looked all around, trying to determine which of the many doors stood between her and alcohol. The first one she tried was a half-bath. The second, a laundry room that she guessed had never been used. Finally, on the third try, she found the wine room.

It was bigger than both the half-bath and the laundry, providing plenty of space for hundreds of different bottles, all laying on built-in, dark wood wine racks. Rey took a step inside, immediately noticing how much cooler the room was than the rest of the apartment. It was definitely climate controlled.

Rey turned in a circle, overwhelmed by the number of bottles in his collection. What was the organizational method? Year? Region? Vintage? Rey didn’t know. She didn’t even know what vintage was. Two years of being a sugar baby, eating at upscale restaurants, and she hadn’t absorbed a single word said by a sommelier.

She reached out and grabbed a bottle at random. It was red, the label all in French and pretentious looking. Probably expensive. The kind of wine meant to be decanted and swirled and savored. It was nothing like the boxed wine she’d buy for herself, but it would do. 

Rey walked out of the wine room, the door closing heavily behind her, and immediately heard her cell vibrating again. Amid all her snooping and judging, Rey had forgotten that her phone was what had prompted her to leave Kylo’s bed in the first place. She placed the bottle on the counter and hustled to the living room.

Fishing her phone out from under the coffee table, Rey saw an incoming call from Finn. 

“Hello?”

“Peanut!” Finn shouted at her, “you’re alive!” 

“Of course I’m alive,” she scoffed into the phone. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’ve been texting and calling you all night!” he explained.

“You have?” she asked, pulling her phone away from her ear to check her notifications. Sure enough, there were seven unread texts and three missed calls, all from Finn. The message at the top of her notifications read:

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182538674@N08/48216338072/in/dateposted-public/)

“Huh, you have,” Rey said, returning her phone to her ear. “The ballet was so good, Finn! Have you, uh, ever seen a male ballet dancer?”

Rey heard someone snort in the background of the call. 

“As much as I’d like to hear more about those dancers, Peanut, that’s actually not what I’m calling about.”

“Rey, you’re on speaker,” she heard Poe’s voice cut in. “Look, we’re calling because you left your keys here. I’d like to take my boyfriend to bed, but you know how sleepy he gets after sex, so we need to know if you want us to leave the door unlocked or if you’re spending the night with Daddy Warbucks.” She could practically hear his suggestive eyebrow wiggle through the phone.

“Why would I know that about Finn?” Rey cried, opening up her clutch to confirm she was, in fact, keyless. “But to answer your question…” 

Kylo would probably expect her to stay. And if she did, it would likely mean going another round or two. (He was still young enough to get it up more than once a night, right?) The sex had been incredible, if a bit more _intimate_ than she had been expecting. Maybe she could ask him to take her from behind next time? Avoid eye contact entirely? That sounded good.

“... go ahead and lock the door,” she resolved.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said, more confident. Even if she hadn’t developed a sudden interest in testing Kylo’s sexual limits, she wanted to give Finn and Poe the apartment. Poe hadn’t spent the night in a while, so she was happy to hear they were together, even if she didn’t need quite as much information as Poe was offering. “Enjoy your night and don’t worry about me,” she assured Finn. 

“We will,” Poe said, with relish. “And thank you for the roleplay inspiration! Do you maybe have a pair of white tights I could bor--”

“Okay, Peanut,” Finn shouted over the rest of his boyfriend’s question. “We’re going to bed. Be safe and we’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.” 

“Love you too, Finn,” Rey told him with a smile.

“Do you love me—” she heard Poe begin before the call cut off. Rey laughed, picturing Poe’s mock-outrage when he realized Finn had denied him. 

“Who’s Finn?” asked a voice behind her, causing Rey to jump. 

“Shit, Kylo! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Rey cried. 

“I wasn’t sneaking up on you,” Kylo practically growled. “I just didn’t expect you to be having a private conversation in the middle of my fucking living room.” 

“It wasn’t private. You just surprised me,” Rey explained, her hackles rising in response to his apparent displeasure.

“Who’s Finn?” Kylo asked again, his tone leaving no doubt that the question was actually an accusation.

“He’s my roommate,” Rey said, not even trying to hide her annoyance at the invasive questioning.

“Your roommate? How convenient that you never mentioned having a male roommate before? Is it normal to say ‘I love you’ to a roommate?”

“I don’t particularly care what’s normal,” she told him, getting to her feet so Kylo couldn’t continue to do that vaguely threatening looming thing. Unfortunately, their height difference meant he continued to be intimidating even when they were both upright.

Kylo took a step toward her. “Look, Rey, you agreed to an exclusive arrangement. No other sugar daddies, no boyfriends.”

“And I told you Finn isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my roommate. My _gay_ roommate who’s in a committed relationship and who, yeah, _I love_. So you can take several steps back and stop being such a jealous, possessive asshat,” she said.

As soon as Rey finished speaking, putting a hard emphasis on “asshat”, Kylo complied, dropping onto the couch, a shocked look on his face. “No one talks to me like that,” he said.

Rey narrowed her eyes at him, a fresh wave of anger washing over her at his words. She half expected him to follow up with, _Do you know who I am?_ Except, that wouldn’t have matched the awed look on his face. Why did his face look like that? 

“Maybe more people should,” Rey defiantly replied. His increasingly cowed expression, however, meant her righteous outrage was beginning to ebb.

Kylo just stared at her. 

“I should probably go,” Rey said, itching with discomfort the longer he looked at her without talking. She turned toward the bedroom to fetch her dress. 

“Wait, Rey, don’t go,” Kylo finally said, voice pleading. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” she said, whirling around to confront him and finding him standing just a step behind her, an arm reaching out. “You obviously don’t trust me, and this isn’t going to work if you’re constantly accusing me of violating the terms of our arrangement.” God, what was she even saying? Of course, it could still work. She didn’t need Kylo’s trust, she just needed his money. As long as Kylo still paid her, she could stand a little jealousy. 

For all his looming and intimidation, there hadn’t been a moment where Rey was afraid of him. She’d read about his temper in a handful of articles, but none of his former subordinates accused him of physical violence, and that seemed like something that would have come out during Snoke’s attempted smear campaign after Kylo left the First Order.

“Rey, please,” he said. “I’m sorry, okay? I was out of line. He’s your roommate. I was just… surprised… that you’d never mentioned him before.” 

Rey scoffed. Surprised? More like suspicious. She’d never mentioned Finn because it was none of Kylo’s business who she lived with. Finn was part of Rey’s real life. Sugaring wasn’t. And Rey wanted to keep the two worlds separate. She already felt herself slipping too often in Kylo’s presence, letting too much of her real self seep through. Introducing Finn would just make the distinction harder to maintain.

But the mention of Finn also functioned to remind Rey that she was currently locked out of her apartment and she didn’t particularly want to interrupt whatever Finn and Poe were doing inside. She sighed. “I want wine,” she said.

“You want a glass of wine?” Kylo asked, a mixture of relief and confusion on his face. “Of course. I’ll get you one. We can have a drink and talk this through,” he said, taking the last step toward her and placing both his hands on her shoulders.

“No,” Rey said, shrugging off his touch. “I want a bottle. As a gift. An expensive one.” 

“You want a bottle of wine and then you’ll stay?” he asked, like he didn’t believe their fight could be resolved that easily. 

Rey, though, didn’t want to fight. She was eager to resolve this and move on because fighting served none of her interests. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “Yes,” she said. 

“Yes. Fine. It’s yours. Whatever you want. Did you still want a drink now?” he asked, taking a step toward the kitchen.

“Honestly, Kylo,” Rey said, shifting back into sugar baby mode, “What I really want is to go back to bed.” She gave him a heady look as she started unbuttoning her borrowed shirt. 

Kylo watched her closely. The second the shirt hit the floor, he surged forward, lifting her onto his shoulder and hauling her back into the bedroom for round two.

 

* * *

 

Kylo Ren (🍬daddy)   
  
Need to reschedule date this week. Last minute business trip.  
  
😩  
  
But I had so many plans! 👅🍆💦  
  
You wanted to lick a wet eggplant?  
  
KYLO  
  
That’s it. I’m putting you in a home, grandpa  
  
Kidding. I work in tech. I had the taco emoji months before the official release. 👉🌮 👅🌮 🍆🌮 🚀💥  
  
OH! is that how ur gonna make this up to me??  
Of course. IF you agree to reschedule. I still want to see you 4x this month.  
  
hmm… idk. Finn has been keeping me pretty busy… 🤪  
REY  
Too soon?  
REY  
  
Sorry! 😅  
If it makes you feel better I grossed myself out just typing that  
What about a bonus day next weekend? You can have my Saturday AND Sunday  
We could do the Galaxy Battles movie marathon?  
I’ll bring the movies and snacks  
Fuck, you’re perfect.  
😘  
You can always *show me* how much you appreciate me  
👅🌮💦  
🎁🎁🎁  
😉  


 

* * *

 

Finn Storm  
  
Hey  
  
What are you doing this weekend? Kylo’s out of town  
  
Wanna go to Maz's?  
  
  
Sure! I’ve got a networking event on Friday and then I have to do some studying, but I’m free Saturday night! Let’s party!  
  
Perfect! 7?  
  
Works for me! I’ll meet you at home and we can head over together.  
  
Okay!  
  
👍  


 

* * *

 

“Two skinny jalapeño-watermelon margaritas, please, Maz,” Finn declared as he plopped down on a recently vacated barstool, the previous occupant having moved to the shuffleboard table.

Rey slid into the seat beside him and pretended to gag. “Skinny? No thank you. Can you make mine a regular, Maz? And an order of hot wings?”

Maz looked up from the shots she was pouring to squint at Rey. Her magnified eyes moved up and down as she eyed every part of her visible above the countertop. “Enjoy it while it lasts, child,” she told Rey cryptically. “Because one day you’ll wake up with indigestion and love handles.”

“I’ve been telling her, Maz,” Finn said, shaking his head. “You should see how she eats at home. Nary a vegetable in sight.”

“Ha!” Rey laughed. “And when was the last time _you_ ate a vegetable?” 

“I have a boyfriend in his thirties! We cook together sometimes. We eat vegetables all the time!” 

“I have a boyfriend in his thirties, too!” Rey insisted. “Well… kind of. Anyway, last time he took me out to dinner, there was asparagus!” 

“And you ate it?” Finn challenged.

“I ate… most of it,” Rey said. “I took several bites before I traded with Kylo for his risotto. He’s doing the keto diet. I was trying to help.” 

Maz chortled from where she was now mixing their margaritas. “It that how he managed to fill himself out?” she asked. “The keto diet?”

“Oh-ho, that’s right!” Finn cried, leaning over to bartop toward the older woman. “You knew Rey’s sugar daddy when he was a kid. Tell us everything, Maz. What was little Kylo like?”

“I have nothing to say about _Kylo’s_ childhood. That man has only ever been fully grown,” Maz told them as she delivered their drinks and Rey’s wings. Rey eyed the plate suspiciously, positive that there were twice as many carrot and celery pieces on it as the last time she’d ordered. She shrugged, completely submerging a carrot stick in blue cheese dressing before popping it into her mouth.

Maz continued: “I will tell you that the last time I saw Rey’s man, before he showed up at my bar a few weeks ago, he was probably half as broad. His ears stuck out further than any other part of him.” 

Finn laughed as Rey told Maz through her grin and a mouthful of saucy chicken, “He still has the ears. I think I e’s just gotten better at hiding them.” 

“Hmm, there you are, then. And that’s all I’m saying, Finn Storm. Everyone is entitled to their secrets.”

“So you admit it. He has secrets.”

“As do you. Or did you want me to tell Poe about that time you had a bit too much to drink and decided to climb up—”

“No, no! You’re right. He’s entitled to his secrets, just like we all are,” Finn quickly interjected. 

Rey raised both her eyebrows at her friend while he steadily avoided eye contact. “Speaking of Poe… ” she began when it became clear that there would be no further elaboration about what exactly Finn had climbed up on. “Where is he tonight?”

“Oh, he’s busy. Tagging along with Leia to some swanky party. They’re going to try and guilt rich people into donating money to the Resistance,” Finn explained. “But I am supposed to tell you that your bottle of wine is getting added to the silent auction. Threepio appraised it at a couple of grand.” 

Rey choked on her $5 happy hour margarita. “A couple _grand_?” she clarified. “As in, thousands of dollars?”

“Just two thousand, but yeah,” Finn shrugged. “Why are you freaking out? Didn’t Casterfo buy you a Rolex one time? This is hardly your most expensive present.”

“Because I almost drank a $2,000 bottle of wine!”

“You almost drank it?” Finn laughed. “What a waste! You have terrible taste. I once saw you pair Flaming Hot Cheetos with Chardonnay.”

Rey glared at him. “I have great taste! I’ll have you know I had fancy wild boar a few weeks ago that was so expensive, they didn’t even list the price on the menu. And it was delicious.”

“But was it better than Flaming Hot Cheetos?” Finn asked, unable to hide the smirk on his face.

“It was… _as good_ as Flaming Hot Cheetos,” Rey replied.

“See? No discernment. It’s not a bad thing. It means you’re almost impossible to disappoint, but it also means that bottle would have been completely wasted on you.”

Rey took a long sip of her drink. “I have enough discernment to know that Maz makes a mean margarita,” she said.

Maz leaned over the counter as far as her short stature would allow and whispered conspiratorially, “I wouldn’t drink that mess if you paid me. I make them because they sell; they sell because undiscerning people like the two of you prefer novelty over taste. And because I add twice as much cheap tequila as the competition.” 

Finn choked out a laugh, still giggling as he finished off his drink. “Really, Maz?” 

“Don’t even get me started on skinny cocktails,” she told him. “A sidecar, made with top-shelf cognac. Now that’s a drink,” she said, taking her leave of the two of them to attend to another customer. 

“Wait! Maz, can we get another round?” Finn shouted after her. She shook her head sadly as she walked to the other end of the bar.

“Fine. Okay. You’re probably right,” Rey admitted when Finn turned back to her. “I don’t have a pretentious, classist palate. But what I can’t believe is that Kylo didn’t say anything. He was just going to let me drink that bottle like it was nothing.” 

“Rey, when will you stop being surprised that your daddies have money to waste? You said he had a whole wine room? It’s probably all worth that much. People don’t usually build climate-controlled fortresses for $12 bottles.” 

“Fuck, you’re right. I wonder how many more bottles I can shake out of him before he gets suspicious?” 

Finn laughed again, clearly tipsy. “Your dedication to the cause is commendable,” he told her, lifting his empty glass in the air.

“Thank you,” she said, clinking her own glass against his. “But enough about Kylo. Tell me about Poe. How are things going with you two?”

Finn started fiddling with his cocktail umbrella, avoiding Rey’s eye again. “Uh, why do you ask?” he said, obviously nervous but trying and failing for nonchalance.

“It’s just… things have seemed kind of weird between the two of you lately…”

Finn finally looked up, the tequila loosening his tongue to the point of word vomit. “He just doesn’t get it, Rey! He doesn’t understand how stressful everything is right now. I’m in my third year of law school. It’s important that I finish strong. I just need him to support me instead of constantly complaining that I don’t spend enough time with him. Like I’m choosing to be away from him instead of, oh I don’t know, trying to create a future for myself!” 

Rey’s face had dropped at some point during his rant. She had noticed some strain between them, but she hadn’t expected Finn to sound so... over everything. “Finn,” she said, taking his hand in both of hers. “He loves you.” 

“I know that,” he said sadly. “But maybe that’s not enough right now.” 

“Don’t say that! It’s enough! It has to be enough! This is just a blip. You guys have been together for... what? Four years, now? And you’ve never really fought. You were due. You’ll get through this.”

Finn sighed. “If it’s already this bad right now, just imagine what it will be like when I’m studying for the bar this summer. Or when I’m a new associate working seventy hours a week…”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I got an offer, Rey.”

“What?”

“My summer associate job. They made me an offer for after graduation—”

“Finn, that’s amazing!”

“—in Coruscant.” 

“What?” 

“They want me to move to Coruscant. Work in their office there.” 

“I don’t understand. You can’t work in Coruscant. It’s too far away…” 

“I accepted, Rey.” 

“What?” 

“They said if I put in a few years at the Coruscant office, they would move me to a pro-bono practice group. I could do so much good, Rey!” 

“Does Poe know about this?” she asked in a whisper.

Finn looked away again. “I haven’t figured out how to tell him yet,” he choked out.

Just at that moment, Maz came by to drop off their second round. She was playfully scowling, no doubt planning to tease them for their drink choices, but when she saw the distress on Finn’s face she dropped whatever ribbing she had planned. Rey gave her a wan smile. “Keep them coming, Maz,” she told her, passing over her card.

 

* * *

 

Rey was drunk. 

She had just made it home from Maz’s, helping an even drunker Finn stumble into bed to sleep off the five margaritas he’d consumed before Maz had cut him off and sent them both home. At the time, Rey had felt plenty sober enough to help him slip off his shoes and lie on his side. She’d even put a glass of water and some ibuprofen on his bedside table, for when he inevitably woke up with a hangover.

Now. though, Rey was feeling her four drinks. At least, that’s what she told herself as she reached for her phone and clicked on Kylo's contact.

“Hello,” said a groggy murmur on the other side of the line. “Rey? Is that you? What time is it?”

“I’m drunk,” Rey said. 

“You are?” the voice said amid some soft shuffling, like he was sitting up in bed. “So you decided to call me?” 

“I did,” Rey replied.

“Why?” he asked, and Rey thought she could maybe hear him smiling.

“I’m also horny,” she said.

Kylo let out an exhale that could have also been a laugh. Rey wasn’t sure. “You’re drunk and horny so you called me,” he summarized. She could definitely hear him smiling through the phone. “And what did you want me to do about it?” he asked.

“Just needed to hear your voice,” she said, lying on her bed and shucking off her shoes and jeans. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything,” she sighed, touching herself lightly over her boyshorts. She hummed softly.

“What are you doing right now, Rey,” he asked, his voice somehow even huskier than when he answered the phone, but for a different reason.

“Touching myself,” she admitted.

“Good,” he told her. “Keep doing that. What are you wearing while you touch yourself?” 

“A t-shirt and some underwear,” she said, glancing down at her body. “The shirt is from a 5k I ran five years ago. The underwear is from Target. Green and blue stripes.” 

“Mmm, sounds sexy. Keep the pressure light and only over your panties for now. Are you wearing anything underneath your shirt?” 

“A bra,” she said, rubbing herself just the way he directed.

“Take that off,” he told her. “Your shirt too. I want you spread out on your bed in nothing but your little striped panties.” 

“They’re boyshorts,” she said. “They’re not little.” 

Kylo huffed out a laugh. “In nothing but your boyshorts, then. Are you doing it?” he asked her.

“Mmhmm,” she said, switching him to speaker phone so she could better follow along with his directions. She pulled off her t-shirt and unhooked her bra, tossing them both over the side of her twin-sized bed. “I’m ready,” she said.

“Good. Now take the hand that you aren’t using to touch yourself and squeeze your tits. Pretend like it’s my hand. How does that feel?”

“Huh. Oooh. Good. It feels good,” she breathed, remembering the week before when it really had been Kylo’s hand touching her like this. Her own hands hardly compared, too small and too rough to recreate the same sensation, but with Kylo’s voice guiding her, she was still turned on.

“Tell me how wet you are,” he growled.

Rey slipped her hand under her waistband for the first time that night and found herself soaked and sensitive. “I’m so wet,” she told him, dragging a finger through her messy sex, “I wish--ah!--I wish you were here to help me. You always make me feel so good.” (Nevermind, that they’d only had the one weekend.)

“I’m still going to help you, sweetheart,” he told her. “Take off your granny panties and spread your legs for me.” 

“They’re not--” Rey started to say before deciding this probably wasn’t the right time to harp on the exact cut of her underwear. “Okay,” she said instead. 

“Once they’re off, I want you to slowly stroke up and down your clit with one finger.”

Rey nodded as she hurried to follow his directions, only vaguely aware that he couldn’t see her. She had been keyed up for so long just from thinking about him, well before she’d finally relented and called, that she felt her climax building basically the moment she touched her clit. Too overcome with feeling for coherent words, she let her hitched breathing and breathy moans do the talking for her.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Kylo told her. “Now add another finger and speed up a little. Rub in circles, if that’s better,” he said. 

Rey closed her eyes and arched her back, trying to block out everything but Kylo’s voice and the feelings he was eliciting from her. Only… Kylo wasn’t actually saying anything right then. Why had he stopped? She strained to hear what was happening on the other end of the call and barely made out a soft slapping sound.

“Oh god,” she moaned, “Ky-Kylo, are you… Are you touching yourself?” 

“Yes, fuck, of course,” came the reply. “I’m so fucking hard Rey. You have no idea. You make me so hard. Just thinking about you spread out on your bed, doing exactly what I tell you to--”

“Aaaaahhhhhh,” Rey cried out as her orgasm unexpectedly ripped over her.

“FUCK, Rey,” Kylo shouted as he finished just behind her. 

Rey just laid for a minute, trying to catch her breath and remember if she’d ever had an orgasm that good from just her hand. Her vibrator? Sure. But Kylo had done that using just his voice and her fingers…

“You should get some sleep,” Kylo murmured into the phone.

“Yeah,” Rey said, simply, already halfway there.

“Good night, then, sweetheart,” he said.

Before she heard him end the call, Rey was fast asleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Links:
> 
> An article on the origins and history of Rey's favorite sex cliche: [Do Do Women Actually Wear Men’s Dress Shirts After Sex?](https://www.racked.com/2017/4/17/15113942/woman-wearing-a-mans-shirt-after-sex-nope)
> 
> Kylo's [ coffee table](https://www.rhmodern.com/catalog/product/product.jsp?productId=prod14890084&categoryId=cat7030113). 
> 
> What is [ Soylent](https://soylent.com/)? And why does Rey hate it [SO MUCH](https://www.phillymag.com/be-well-philly/2017/09/14/diet-soylent-worst-nightmare/)?
> 
> Make a [Jalapeno-Watermelon Margarita](https://spicysouthernkitchen.com/jalapeno-watermelon-margarita/) or a [Skinny Jalapeno-Watermelon Margarita](https://www.ambitiouskitchen.com/skinny-jalapeno-watermelon-margaritas) at home!
> 
> What is the [keto diet](https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/ketogenic-diet-101)?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben have their marathon date, Ben lets Rey borrow something, and a few new characters are introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for being my beta! She's got some Rose-level tech skills and is posting super interesting Reylo AO3 data (that she's scraped and organized herself) on Twitter!
> 
> Click [HERE](https://twitter.com/bazineapologist/status/1152481895336140801?s=21) for an illustration I did for this chapter!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182538674@N08/48331892257/in/dateposted-public/)

“Is this pirated?” 

Rey stopped fiddling with the HDMI cable that she had borrowed from Rose to look up at Kylo. “I still can’t believe you have a home theater,” she said, deflecting his question and instead motioning vaguely at the massive television, surround sound system, and two tiers of plush seating that made up the room’s furnishings. 

Rey hadn’t even known his home theater existed before she showed up that morning, arms laden with all the necessities for their Galaxy Battles movie marathon. When she had gone to dump it all onto the leather coffee table in the living room, Kylo had tutted and lead her instead to the home theater. Rey’s snacks, both classic (popcorn, Red Vines, and a Tupperware full of Poe’s famous homemade chocolate chip cookie dough) and keto-friendly (nuts, jerky, and pork rinds), now lay scattered across one of the two double chaise lounges that made up the first row of seating. 

Kylo was spread out on the other one, his oversized frame barely taking up half the lounger. 

Rey, meanwhile, was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, fiddling with the space-age TV remote, trying to find the right input channel to connect her laptop to his enormous, high definition TV. “How big is this, anyway?” Rey asked, pointing at the TV screen.

“96 inches, I think. But seriously, Rey, you bought these movies, right?” Kylo tried to clarify. 

“I did not,” she confessed, turning back to her computer to avoid his eye. “My friend Rose helped me get them. But she’s a very good person and would never do anything morally objectionable, so I’m sure it’s fine.” 

Kylo laughed hollowly. “Rey, she definitely stole these. I can see the Russian subtitles from here,” he said, gesturing to the much smaller screen of her computer. “I cannot be encouraging piracy. I’m a major investor in anti-digital piracy technology, for fuck’s sake.”

“The subtitles go away in a minute,” Rey assured him. “And anyway, is it really stealing when the victim is a multi-billion dollar corporation engaged in unfair labor practices at all of their theme parks?” Rey asked.

A heavy silence followed her question and prompted Rey to look up. Kylo was looking at her with a furrowed brow and Rey suddenly realized what she had just said to him. “Is what Rose would say,” she added hastily. “She’s a socialist or something. It’s whatever. I don’t really know anything about economic systems.” 

“Don’t you have an economics degree? And aren’t you working on an MPA?” Kylo asked, his expression unchanged. 

“I mean, I know _something_ about economics,” Rey tried again. “I’m just not interested in Rose’s radical and unrealistic ramblings. Imagine: a society where everyone is able to afford food, medicine, and education. Nice pipedream! Now how are we going to pay for it? I support capitalism, obviously. The market regulates itself!”

“Your friend Rose sounds like my mother,” Kylo sighed.

“Oh look, it’s working!” Rey said, eager to change the subject. She stood up to join Kylo on his lounger, snagging the licorice and pork rinds on her way.

“Really though, I would have been happy to buy the movies,” he told her as she snuggled up next to him. “It wouldn’t have been a big deal and then you wouldn’t have had to pirate them.”

“But you do so much for me,” came her simpering reply. “I just wanted to do something special for you, for once.” 

It was a trick she had learned early on in her sugaring career. Anytime she wanted to inspire more generosity in a daddy or alleviate some tension that had developed between them, she would find some small way to treat him. Maybe she would plan a date or buy him a small gift; the only real requirement was that she made it personal to him, somehow. Monogrammed golf balls for the golf daddy. A new leather luggage tag for the daddy who travels. A Galaxy Battles movie marathon for the giant dork she was currently trying to bleed dry. They were usually so touched by even a half-assed gesture that they would return the favor tenfold. 

Rey just hadn’t expected Kylo to notice or care about the source of the movies.

“I know, and I really appreciate it,” he told her softly. “but I wouldn’t have minded. I’d like to have my own copies anywa—” Kylo stopped suddenly, distracted by what he saw on the screen.

Rey glanced over. It was just a text crawl. What could have possibly distracted him in a text crawl? “What is it?” she asked.

He glanced down at her. “What? Oh, it’s nothing. Just I thought they had changed it to say Episode IV at the top.” 

Rey frowned, struggling to reconcile that explanation with Kylo’s rather dramatic reaction. But the scene quickly changed to a space battle and D2-R2 was on the screen with a gold droid and a fierce-looking princess. Rey settled in to finally see what all the fuss was about.

They watched in relative silence for a while, the only sound Kylo munching on Rey’s Red Vines. Apparently, it was his cheat day because he had bypassed all of her carefully selected low-carb options in favor of the carb-filled confections. Rey didn’t mind. Pork rinds may have been having a moment as a trendy keto-friendly snack, but, for Rey, they would always carry pleasantly familiar blue-collar associations. She grabbed the bag and started crunching.

Their taciturn viewing was suddenly interrupted when the movie’s lovable rogue shot a green alien bounty hunter in the middle of a cantina. Kylo gasped. “He shot first!” he exclaimed.

“Er, yeah,” Rey said, confused by his reaction. “I, uh, thought you said you used to be obsessed with these movies when you were a kid. I kind of figured you’d have them memorized...”

“You don’t understand, Rey. He hasn’t shot first since 1997! Where did your friend get these movies?”

“We found them on the Finnish dark web,” Rey told him. “Rose just helped me navigate the super complicated download instructions. It wasn’t enough to know Finnish. I also needed to be fluent in techspeak, apparently. Why? Are they bad? Is there something wrong with them?”

Kylo grabbed her face and kissed her roughly. It was abrupt enough that by the time her brain and body caught up to the kissing, he was already pulling away. His hands, though, lingered on either side of her jaw. “There’s nothing wrong with them,” he told her, eyes bright. They’re great. They’re despecialized!” 

“What does that mean?” she asked, flushing a little from his vigorous kiss and a worry that her breath smelt like pork rinds.

“It means all the shitty CGI they kept adding with each new rerelease is gone. They’re restored to their original theatrical glory. But in high definition! Fuck, I knew they existed but I’d never thought to look for them because, well, I thought Galaxy Battles was behind me. But…” He trailed off and kissed her again. 

“Oh. You can’t just buy them?”

“Not officially. They’re fan restorations.”

“So what you’re saying is… piracy is good…” Rey said with a slow smile.

“I’m saying… I’m fucking glad you pirated the original trilogy and I’m making a copy of it before you leave. And--” he smiled a smile reminiscent of the rogue in the movie, “--I’m saying I’d like to show you my appreciation. Right now.” 

“But I don’t want to miss the movie,” she protested weakly as he started kissing her neck.

“Well, I don’t want you to miss it either,” he told her, moving down to settle between her thighs. 

She buried her hands in his hair and pulled lightly, forcing him to lift his head and look at her. “But then _you’ll_ miss the movie,” she told him, a bit breathlessly. 

“You were right about me having it memorized,” he smirked as he pushed up her shirt and started peeling down her leggings. Rey felt her body start to tremble with the anticipation of his touch. It was embarrassing. She looked away from him and up at the screen in front of her, trying to focus on the movie and will her body to be cool and calm down. When Kylo’s mouth finally made contact with her bare cunt, though, all pretense of being unaffected went out the window.

“Fuck, that feels good,” she gasped as he licked at her clit. She wasn’t looking at the screen anymore. She wasn’t looking at anything. Her eyes were tightly shut as she focused all of her attention on the feeling of Kylo’s tongue working her over, slowly building her up to something.

Oh, well, she thought, as she realized she was missing the movie. It wasn’t like she was worried the heroes wouldn’t make it out of the trash compactor. She already knew they were in the sequels. 

“Right there,” she moaned, as he hit a particularly good spot. It really wasn’t fair that Kylo was so good at this. And it was even less fair that someone like Rey, someone a bit too rough and outspoken, got to be on the receiving end of it. It made Rey think of something Bazine had told her once, over drinks.

It wasn’t exactly normal for Bazine to engage Rey in conversation. When Poe had first tried to introduce the two women, back when Rey had first entered the Bowl, Bazine had made it very clear that she wasn’t interested in mentoring. The Chandrila sugar market was saturated with babies and Bazine wasn’t looking to train her own competition. 

But occasionally over the last two years of running into each other at Maz’s, usually when Bazine was in a long-term arrangement and had drunk a few too many appletinis, her tongue would loosen. This had been one of those times. 

_“The sex is nothing special,” Bazine had told her, slurring just slightly. “But that’s not exactly unusual. I mean, sure, there’s something to be said for age and experience. And I’ve never met so many guys so eager to go down on me! But, in general, vanilla sex is better because of attraction. Closing your eyes and thinking about Justin Trudeau can only get you so far, you know?” she’d said._

_Rey didn’t know. Not really. She’d never really had a heads of state kink. “But haven’t you ever been with a sugar daddy who you were attracted too?” she had asked her, sipping on the drink that this unusually generous version of Bazine had bought for her._

_“Oh, sure. Once or twice. But think about it: rich, hot, and good in bed? That’s about as likely as finding a platonic whale daddy!” Bazine paused to cackle at her own joke before gently indicating to Rey that even if such a daddy existed, he would probably not be interested in someone like her. “Don’t get me wrong,” Bazine had explained. “You’re very _cute_ , but you don’t exactly project bombshell sexpot energy. And you won’t shut up about income inequality. A daddy like that would be looking for someone a bit more… well… sexy and fawning.” _

And yet, here Rey was: getting expertly eaten out by a daddy who was richer, hotter, and better in bed than anyone had a right to be. “Fuck, Kylo, I’m so close. Just a little more. Yeah. Just like that. Uhh!” 

Her mind went blank and she forgot how to speak as a wave of pleasure spread slowly through her body. It was one of the better, more drawn out orgasms Kylo had given her. Good thing, too, because it had taken him a good fifteen minutes to get her off that way. It would have been a tad bit disappointing if all that work had culminated in an underwhelming result.

Kylo sat up and worked his jaw for a minute. Rey winced sympathetically, thinking about how sore her jaw could get after only half as many minutes spent blowing him. 

She leaned over to kiss him softly on the corner of his mouth, not wanting to strain his tired jaw any further with a long, drawn-out kiss. “Thank you,” she purred. “That was incredible. Can I return the favor?” she asked, eyeing the prominent tent in the crotch his designer joggers. 

He opened his mouth to answer when his attention was diverted by something happening on the screen. “Oh, this is a good part!” he enthused, settling back against the lounger and pulling Rey along with him. Apparently whatever was happening in his pants was less pressing than the space battle happening in the movie.

Rey took her cue from Kylo and settled in to watch. She would give him his own climax once they finished watching the movie’s.

 

* * *

 

One blowjob, one round of leisurely fucking, and two movies later, Rey and Kylo found themselves sprawled out on the lounger, debating whether or not they should start the prequel trilogy tonight or to save it until tomorrow. A little over six hours into their marathon, Rey was realizing _all_ of the Galaxy Battles movies might have been a bit ambitious for one weekend. 

“So we’re agreed. We’ll start it tomorrow,” Kylo said through a yawn. It wasn’t very late, but a full day of lazing around in the dark, watching movies and occasionally having sex, had made them prematurely tired.

“Mmhmm,” Rey hummed from her position lying upside down on the chaise lounge before they both lapsed into a cozy kind of silence.

“What do your weeks look like?” Kylo asked out of nowhere, interrupting Rey’s repose. His tone was perfectly even, but Rey could see his hands fidget nervously in her peripheral vision. 

“You don’t have to worry about me canceling or rescheduling dates,” she told him, glancing over. “My schedule stays pretty steady. But I was thinking, what do you think about going hiking again? Or maybe we could try a climbing gym? I just feel like it might be fun to do something physical together… besides sex, of course. It’s probably about time I start taking better care of my body, anyway. At least that what Maz tells me.” 

“Your body is perfect,” Kylo said on reflex. And then, “I was actually wondering about the rest of your week, though. If maybe you’d be interested in adding a midweek date to our arrangement? I would increase your allowance, of course.” 

More money? Rey sat up and turned toward him. “I would love that,” she told him, honestly. “But… I’ve kind of been neglecting some of my grad work, recently,” she guiltily admitted. “I still have a pile of midterms to grade for my undergrads, and a deadline coming up for a paper I’m working on…” 

Rey had always been a very dedicated student, so it was hard for her to acknowledge that Kylo had been a bit of a distraction over the last few weeks. With her past daddies, it had been easy for Rey to compartmentalize that part of her life. All of her interactions with them had been carefully scheduled with deference to the more important demands on her time (school, Finn, the Resistance). 

With Kylo, though, it was different. His allowance was so generous, that Rey felt compelled to give him a bit more of the true girlfriend experience. Rather than text or call on a schedule, she made an effort to communicate with him the way a vanilla girlfriend would. Sometimes that meant texting him while she was supposed to be studying just to see how his day was going. Sometimes it meant sending him funny links in the middle of class. Sometimes that meant calling him up at the end of the day because she was drunk and horny. (Actually, Rey tried not to think too hard about that last one. It had only happened the one time and neither of them had dared to mention it since.) Whatever form it took, that level of organic communication took up a lot more of her time.

“... and I have this conference I’m going to in a couple of weeks. I mean, it’s just in Corellia, so I’m commuting, but that’s four hours round trip on the bus.”

“Wait a minute,” Kylo interrupted. “The bus? Rey, do you not have a car?”

“No,” Rey shrugged. “We live in the city.” 

Kylo looked scandalized. “You need a car!” he cried. “You can’t be spending four hours every day on public transportation!” He stopped to think for a moment. “That’s it,” he told her. “We’re not going to a climbing gym next weekend. We’ll go car shopping and we’ll get you a car,” he said definitively.

“I don’t want one,” Rey insisted. “The conference is only for _three days_. And then what? I’m stuck with a totally unnecessary new expense, even though I hardly ever leave the city? There’s no need. I wouldn’t just have the monthly payment, I’d also have insurance, gas, parking...” 

“But it wouldn’t be your expense,” Kylo corrected. “It would be mine. I’d just buy it for you outright and then I’d add some extra money onto your monthly allowance for all the other stuff.”

Rey choked. “WHAT?” she cried. She’d heard stories of sugar babies being gifted cars or apartments by their daddies, but usually they were leased. Rarely had she ever heard of a baby being outright gifted something so extravagant. But here was Kylo, offering to buy her a car, free and clear, after just a few weeks of dating.

Rey didn’t want it. It was too much. She couldn’t accept that from Kylo. Not when she was actually… not when Kylo didn’t know that… 

Anyway, cars were a terrible investment! As soon as Rey drove it off the lot, she would lose 10% of the resale value and, with every subsequent mile, she’d lose even more. It wasn’t like she’d be able to sell it right away, either. Kylo would probably expect her to drive it, at least until their arrangement ended. 

(Rey gulped at the thought of their arrangement ending.)

No, she wouldn’t accept a car. Better for Kylo to spend his money buying her a Rolex or a Birkin bag or something. At least _those_ held their value. They even appreciated over time.

“Kylo, I can’t. I won’t accept it. I really don’t even want one!” 

“I can’t have you spending four hours on the bus, Rey. That’s why you don’t have time for a midweek date. You’re wasting all your time on inefficient bus and rail lines!”

“It’s really not a big deal,” she said. “I grew up using public transportation. Remember? I’m from Jakku. It’s in the middle of nowhere. Everything is at least a 30-minute bus ride from anything else. It might even be nice having all that downtime. Maybe I can get some grading done?”

“On the bus?” he asked, his voice dripping with contempt. _Classist asshole!_ Rey thought, even as she pictured herself trying to grade 75 undergrad midterm exams in the middle of a hot, crowded public bus. It wasn’t a pretty picture.

“Well…” she hedged. 

“If you won’t accept your own car, at least say you’ll take mine,” Kylo pushed. Rey started to shake her head. “Not forever,” he clarified. “Just for the conference. And any other time you need it.” 

“I…”

“Rey, I insist.”

Rey sighed. “But if I’m driving your car, what will you drive?”

Kylo snorted. “Rey, I have more than one car,” he told her like it should have been obvious. “Which one do you want? The Mercedes or the BMW?”

She was still hesitant. Something about the offer made her uncomfortable. It was much less extravagant than _buying_ her a car, of course. It was even less extravagant than the Birkin bag she had just decided she was going to angle for in lieu of her own car. But it also felt more personal? He wasn’t just offering to throw money at her, he was offering her use of something that was _his_. Something he probably carefully selected to fit his specific needs and wants. And he was just going to trust her with it.

Or maybe rich people didn’t have the same sentimental attachment to their cars that regular people tended to? He _had_ been awfully flippant about having more than one. Maybe the offer meant nothing to him.

At that thought, Rey smiled and asked, “Is one of them red?”

 

* * *

 

_Only Kylo would call this car red,_ Rey thought to herself, as she dropped her bag in the backseat of the borrowed Mercedes. It was black with maybe a _sprinkling_ of red glitter in the paint. 

When he’d first shown her the car, Kylo had sworn that it would turn ruby in the sunlight, but, honestly, Rey would have called it purplish. Burgundy, if she was feeling generous. Plain old black in the parking garage. 

It was the second day of her conference and, after attending a full day of talks, panels, and a special reception honoring the conference’s Keynote Speaker, Dr. Luke Skywalker of Ahchto University, Rey had slipped out. 

She usually hated receptions (the flattery and the fishing felt too much like sugaring), but she had really wanted an opportunity to speak with Dr. Skywalker about his research into the effect of childhood food insecurity on academic success, and maybe get some feedback on the pilot program she was running at the Resistance as part of her MPA capstone project. After all, she was attempting to address the exact childhood food insecurity the professor had written so extensively on. 

And she might have also been curious to meet the brother of her idol, Leia Organa. 

Unfortunately, when she had finally gotten the chance to speak to the man, she had found him snide and unhelpful. He had dismissed her mention of Leia and the Resistance out of hand and, when she had mentioned her program, he had deigned to explain that his work was purely academic. Apparently, it was entirely the responsibility of other people, like his sister, to apply his research in the real world. 

Needless to say, Rey had not been impressed. And she had taken the first opportunity to slip out, afterward. 

As she settled into the driver’s seat of Kylo’s car to finally make her way back to Chandrila, she noticed a note stuck to the windshield. It looked like some sort of take-out menu. When she got up to grab it and throw it away, however, she noticed a message scrawled on the back. It read: 

__

_Sorry about the dent! Thought about leaving contact info, but since you drive a Mercedes, I figured you could afford the damage! ;P_

Rey read the note over again to make sure her exhausted brain wasn’t just playing a trick on her (it wasn’t) and then she screamed. She let out a primal yell right in the middle of the parking garage. Not in a “Help! I’m being assaulted!” sort of way. More in a “My boyfriend trusted me with his car and now I have to return it dented!” kind of way. Unfortunately, the distinction seemed to be lost on the grey-haired stranger quickly shuffling over to her. 

“Are you hurt?” asked the stranger who was, in fact, not a stranger at all. It was Dr. Skywalker. 

“Oh god, not you!” she cried out without thinking. 

He took an offended step backward and told her indignantly, “I’m just trying to confirm you’re alright.” 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Rey rushed to tell him. “It’s just… I thought I was alone and... Well, I figured everyone would still be at the reception. You especially. Aren’t you the guest of honor?” 

“Yes,” he admitted. “It doesn’t make the reception any less asinine. Anyway, don’t think I don’t recognize you, young lady. I’m not sure you’re in any position to be judging a man for stepping out early.”

Rey huffed out what she meant to be a laugh, but which ended up being more of a cry. 

“Just to confirm,” Dr. Skywalker said, taking a step forward again and awkwardly reaching out to her, “you are physically alright, right?” 

“Physically, yes,” Rey confirmed, not trying very hard to keep the misery from her voice. 

“Well,” he looked around, probably for some graceful way out of this conversation, “since I came all the way over here, may I ask what exactly you were doing screaming in the middle of a parking garage? It was rather alarming.” 

“It’s just,” Rey sniffled, now feeling guilty on top of miserable, “my boyfriend loaned me his car so I wouldn’t have to take the bus all the way from Chandrila—” she felt a tear slip out of her eye, “—and now someone’s gone and dented it.” She held the offender’s note out to Dr. Skywalker. 

He went ahead and took the offered note, quietly reading the words before slowly moving to circle the large sedan, note still in hand. He stopped by the passenger side door and nodded. “Ah, yes, I see it,” he said. 

Rey whimpered and another few tears fell. It wasn’t that she expected Kylo to be angry with her. Not exactly. He might be angry, but he wasn’t very likely to direct it at her. No, Rey was upset because she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had failed him, somehow. He had trusted her with his property and now she would be returning it less than whole. 

She was kicking herself for not splurging for the valet. 

“I’m guessing since you’re at an inequality conference and you said you work for my sister, that repairing a $100,000 Mercedes is a bit of a stretch for you, financially?” Dr. Skywalker said. 

Rey yelped at "one hundred thousand." 

“That answers my question, I guess,” Dr. Skywalker muttered, mostly to himself. “Well, if you know Leia, you probably know Han.” It wasn’t really phrased as a question, but he still seemed to be waiting for Rey to respond anyway. 

“I’ve met him once or twice,” Rey replied. 

“He should be able to help you,” Dr. Skywalker said. “Call Leia. Tell her to tell Han that Luke sent you. He still owes me a favor for bailing him out of that Malaysian prison. If he gives you a hard time, tell him this is that favor.” 

“I… Why are you being so nice to me?” 

“You’re part of the Resistance, kid,” he said simply. “I may not be active in the cause anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the good work you’re all doing. Even if it is all a bit hopeless and we're all doomed to live in a capitalist nightmare forever. And, anyway,” he added more brusquely, putting physical and emotional distance between him and Rey, “I’m not being that nice. I’ve bailed Han out of plenty more prisons all over the world. He owes me more favors than I’ll ever be able to call in.” 

 

* * *

 

“Pass me the slide hammer,” gruffed Han Solo a few hours later, carefully working the sizable dent out of Kylo’s car’s body.

It had taken Rey a couple of hours to get back to Chandrila, and then another hour on top of that to make it across town to Han’s workshop. So, by the time he finally started working on the dent, it had been close to midnight. 

Han made no secret of the fact that he’d rather be in bed. Leia, though, had made no secret of the fact that Han would only be welcome in their bed after he helped her favorite intern, donor, and future full-time employee. 

Rey had blushed fiercely at that, thankful that she was talking to Leia and Han over the car’s Bluetooth and not face-to-face. She wouldn’t have wanted them to see just how pleased she was by the words. She hadn’t even been sure Leia would remember her before the call. But Leia had. And she’d immediately offered up her husband’s services, no need for any compensation, no need for Rey to invoke Malaysia.

As Rey watched Han work to pull out the dent and listened to him grumble about “fucking Skywalkers,” Rey felt equal parts grateful and guilty for Leia’s intervention. She had tried to tell them there was no hurry, that her sugar daddy wasn’t expecting the car back for at least another day, but Leia wouldn’t hear of it. If leaving the car with Han, to work on at his leisure, meant forcing Rey to ride the bus to Corellia tomorrow, Leia would make sure Han worked at Rey’s convenience, i.e. right away. 

“Next button. And the glue gun,” Han directed Rey. “I think this should be the last round,” he told her, his voice almost kind, as she handed him the tools. “Your, er, daddy won’t ever need to know it was dented.” 

“I can’t tell you how thankful I am for your help, Mr. Solo. I know it’s late and you’d much rather be doing anything else.”

“Call me Han, kid, and don’t worry about it. I was just pretending to be difficult for the benefit of her worshipfulness. Don’t take it so seriously,” he explained. 

Rey laughed. “I can understand that,” she told him.

“Yeah? You like to drive your man a little crazy, too?” 

“Oh yeah,” she said with a smirk. “The first time we ever talked I called him a misogynist and told him to… I guess it would translate to ‘leave me alone.’ He told me he liked it. That he didn’t want a ‘yes woman.’”

“Wise man,” Han told her as he pulled the last button from the car. “Take it from me, there’s nothing better than a partner who challenges you. Even if you want to kill each other sometimes, it’s worth it because they’ll make you better.” He scraped the last of the glue from the car and wiped down the smooth again surface. It really did look perfect.

“What were you translating from?” Han asked after they both took a minute to admire his handwork.

“What?”

“The phrase you translated. What did you translate it from?”

“Oh, Finnish,” she said. “I speak Finnish.” 

Han just stared at her for a minute. “Oletko tosissasi?” he finally asked her in a truly terrible Finnish accent.

Rey’s mouth fell open in shock. “Joo,” she finally replied, once she had sufficiently recovered the ability to speak. “What are the odds…?” she continued in English. 

“I’m not much interested in odds,” Han told her. “But I picked up a few phrases as a kid. Learned more from a good friend and business partner. I still understand it much better than I speak it, but my kid is ace. My buddy says his accent is practically native. Well… was. Haven’t heard him speak it in a while, so who knows,” he shrugged. 

“You’re the second person I’ve meant in the just the last couple of months who speaks it,” Rey told him, feeling like she was just on the edge of something… some breakthrough of understanding. How was is that Kylo and Han both spoke Finnish? 

“Huh, that is something,” Han interrupted. “We’re all done here, but do you mind if I take a minute to look at this baby?” he asked, patting the Mercedes. “I’m not much for these flashy German builds; I much prefer classic American cars like my Falcon, but it’s probably worth a quick look.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine,” she told him. “Take your time.” She moved over to one of Han’s work tables to give him some space to explore. It would give her more time to figure out what exactly she had just been on the brink of. 

She watched distractedly as Han circled the exterior of the car, stopping every once in a while to examine something in detail. When he reached the hood, he moved to the driver’s seat. Rey assumed to pop it. But it didn’t pop.

Han moved back and forth a few times between sitting in the driver’s seat and standing in front of the hood. Still the hood stayed closed. 

He seemed to give up eventually and smiled sheepishly at Rey. “These damn robot cars are all electronics. Practically need an engineering degree to pop the trunk. I’ll just see if he has an owner's manual in the glove box.” 

Rey smiled sympathetically at the older man as he moved to rifle through the glove compartment. 

There were just a few seconds of rifling, followed by a long period of silence. Rey watched as Han Solo barely even seemed to breathe inside the cabin. 

“Han?” she finally called out. When there was no answer, she moved to see if anything was wrong. Maybe he’d just fallen asleep?

Before she took more than a step or two, though, Han emerged from the car. His face looked oddly pale and drawn, and Rey worried again that something was wrong. 

“Han, are you ok—”

“Rey,” he interrupted, his voice thick with an emotion Rey couldn’t identify. “Why do you have my son’s car?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😃😃😃 And we're off! 
> 
>  
> 
> **Translations:**
> 
>  
> 
> Oletko tosissasi?: Are you serious?
> 
> Joo: Yes (slang)
> 
>  
> 
> **Links:**
> 
>  
> 
> This is roughly how I picture Ben's [penthouse](https://homesoftherich.net/2013/11/32-million-penthouse-loft-in-soho/), just maybe without the giant patio. 
> 
> "What kind of anti-Disney socialist propaganda is Rey reading??" you ask. Or maybe you're asking, "Wow, Rey, hard agree. But specifically which practices are you calling out?" Well, here's a [rundown](https://www.bononilawgroup.com/Resources/Articles/Employment-Practices-at-Walt-Disney-Company.shtml).
> 
> The pork rind trend is [real](https://www.wsj.com/articles/pork-rinds-graduate-from-gas-station-to-gourmet-11551800853).
> 
>  
> 
> [So did Han shoot first?](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Han_shot_first)
> 
>  
> 
> A link to learn more about [Harmy's Star Wars Despecialized Edition](https://originaltrilogy.com/topic/Harmys-STAR-WARS-Despecialized-Edition-HD-V27-MKV-IS-OUT-NOW/id/12713/page/1), a popular fan preservation/restoration project. 
> 
> Interested in developing your own heads of state kink? There's a [website](https://hottestheadsofstate.com/list/) for that. 
> 
> More about what good investments [Rolexes](http://money.com/money/4058109/watches-value-rolex-investment/) and [Hermes Birkin bags](https://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/fashion/hermes-birkin-bag-better-investment-stocks-gold-why-explained-a7651936.html) are. And another article about what a bad investment a [car](https://www.forbes.com/sites/investopedia/2011/02/11/buying-a-car-the-worst-investment/#7a370c866be4) is. 
> 
> Speaking of cars, what do Kylo's cars look like? Here's his [BMW X5](https://www.bmwusa.com/vehicles/x-models/bmw-x5/overview.html?cid=GOOGLE_700000001886618_G_BMW_CXW_Salt+Lake+City_Always+On_Brand+T2_Model_Phrase_X5+%7C+Brand+Core&tier=tier2&maco=3204&ch=paid_search&veh=NA&gclid=CjwKCAjwscDpBRBnEiwAnQ0HQNB3e2WL3AZ4XsArulBaViUe8Nq76dJZcZMA4fIo69KNu_IDW3pPwBoCtioQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds) in jet black (as featured in chapter 5) and his [Mercedes S-Class](https://www.mbusa.com/en/vehicles/class/s-class/sedan) in ruby black (or as Kylo would call it "red"). 
> 
> How is Han getting the dent out of Kylo's car? With a [paintless dent removal kit](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaEkz6S5X8o).


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey grapples with Han's revelation and meets up with Kylo for the first time post-reveal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : As always, many thanks to [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for being my beta and friend! Also, thank you [Situation_Normal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/situation_normal/pseuds/situation_normal) for being my biggest motivator (through both threats and cheerleading) to finally publish this long overdue chapter.
> 
> I'm very sorry for the wait! I moved to a different state in the break, but it probably had more to do with this weird bout of writer's block post-move, where every word came out like a kidney stone: slow and unbearably painful. I hope it doesn't read that way!!
> 
> I'm also sorry that this chapter is relatively short. I originally envisioned this as only part of a much longer chapter, but I thought it was better to break the chapter into two and get this first half out quicker. As such, I have upped the chapter count by one.
> 
> Bless anyone who sticks with me to the end. I promise I am committed to finishing!!
> 
>  **Previously, on Take from the Rich** :
> 
>  
> 
> _“Han?” she finally called out. When there was no answer, she moved to see if anything was wrong. Maybe he’d just fallen asleep?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Before she took more than a step or two, though, Han emerged from the car. His face looked oddly pale and drawn, and Rey worried again that something was wrong._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Han, are you ok—”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Rey,” he interrupted, his voice thick with an emotion Rey couldn’t identify. “Why do you have my son’s car?”_

“What do you mean ‘your son’s car’?” Rey asked, not understanding Han’s question. Did his son have the same model car as Kylo?

“When I was in the glove box looking for the owner’s manual, I saw the registration. This car is Kylo Ren’s.”

Rey bit her lip at the mention of Kylo’s name. Kylo had never _explicitly_ mentioned a need for discretion, but there was a certain expectation of privacy in sugar relationships. They weren’t exactly mainstream and the general public tended to have a lot of judgmental opinions. Discretion was implied. 

Rey had always been very open about her participation in the Bowl, but she had been careful to only use names or identifiable information around Finn and Poe. And even with them, she only shared the information for safety reasons. Hearing Han say Kylo’s name, then, made Rey feel like she had violated Kylo’s trust. “Oh god, Han, please, you can’t say anything to anyone,” Rey pleaded. “He’s this hotshot investor and I don’t think it would be good if the details of our… relationship… got out.” 

Han gave her a long, disbelieving look. It gave her the unmistakable impression that she was missing something. Probably something important, if the duration and fervency of Han’s stare were anything to go by. Finally, he said seemed to lose patience with her and just said, “Kylo Ren is my son, Rey.” 

Rey choked. Kylo Ren, Han’s son? It couldn’t be. Kylo had briefly mentioned his parents a few times and they hadn’t sounded anything like Han and Leia. They’d sounded distant. Rey remembered how closed off Kylo had become while talking about camping with his dad. Or, more accurately, talking about how quickly his dad had stopped taking him camping. That man hadn’t sounded anything like the man who, despite a fair bit of good-natured grumbling, had dropped everything to help Rey tonight. 

And Leia. Rey had always admired Leia’s dedication to selfless causes. And now, being on the receiving end of her generosity, Rey’s admiration for the woman had only increased. She couldn’t imagine a scenario where the son of Leia Organa had anything but glowing things to say about his mother. 

What _had_ Kylo said about his mother, anyway? That she’d grown up with money… that she liked the ballet… that her politics mirrored Rose’s… “Of course,” Rey whispered to herself as she went over each and every crumb Kylo had dropped. They all led back to Leia.

“But your name is Solo, not Ren,” she said, desperate for some justification for why she had missed all the clues. 

“Yes, well, his mother and I named him Ben,” gruffed Han. “Ben Solo. Kylo Ren came later when he decided to break his mother’s heart and start working for that mottled hunk of corrupted flesh, James Snoke. Something about wanting to leave the past behind.” Han shrugged.

All at once, Rey flashed back to her first date with Kylo, when Maz had mentioned someone named Ben. Rey had asked Kylo about him and he had brushed off the question, saying something about Ben being nobody, someone from a past life. Now she understood what he had meant. 

In hindsight, it all seemed so obvious. Of course, Kylo Ren was Ben Solo! Of course, he was Han and Leia’s son! “How could I have missed this?” Rey asked. “I googled him!”

Han laughed. “You wouldn’t have found anything on The Google. Snoke took care of that. Not sure how they did it, but any connection between Ben Solo and Kylo Ren was buried deep. I could never decide if I should be offended that my kid dropped my name or if I should be relieved that the First Order’s particular brand of fuckery would never reflect back on his mother.”

“So then Leia’s his mom?” Rey clarified, already sure of the answer.

“Of course,” Han confirmed. “And I guess this means my son is your _daddy_ , huh?” Han asked in return.

“Oh god,” Rey cried, burying her face in her hands. With all the revelations of the last few minutes, Rey had forgotten to be horrified that she was talking to her sugar daddy’s father. And it wasn’t just that—Rey was suddenly confronted with every mortifying reference she had ever made to Kylo or their arrangement in front of Leia and Han. 

This was, undoubtedly, the most humiliating experience of her life.

She heard Han shuffle over to her and felt him give her shoulder a couple of hesitant and not-at-all-reassuring pats. “It’s fine,” he told her. “You’re both adults. I’m just a little surprised that my son has to pay a woman to… uh… I mean, I guess I’m not totally surprised. I was there when he was a teenager. And he _is_ related to Luke.”

“Oh, god,” Rey groaned again. This was not happening. There was no way! Han was _not_ talking to her about his son’s imagined sexual ineptitude. The universe was not this cruel. “He’s not—He’s very—I have no complaints,” Rey squeaked, peeking through her hands. She was sure that she was blushing harder than she’d ever blushed in her life.

“Good to know,” Han grunted, turning a bit red himself.

“And he doesn’t pay me to—It’s not like that! Sugaring is—”

“You know what, kid?” Han interrupted. “We really don’t need to talk about it. I feel better.” 

Rey breathed a sigh of relief and nodded in agreement. “Does he talk to you?” she asked abruptly, lowering her hands and lifting her head. Suddenly, she was desperate to know what kind of relationship Kylo—Ben—had with these people that she thought so well of. 

“He talks to his mother,” Han offered with a shrug. “He didn’t for a long time, but after he left the First Order, he started returning her calls again. They go to lunch, I think, sometimes.” 

“But not you?”

Han sighed. “I wasn’t always there,” he told her, a note of regret in his voice. “He has a reason to be upset with me.”

“But you’re his father!” 

“I wasn’t a very good one,” he answered honestly. “Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t always a very good son, but that’s no excuse for a lot of my mistakes. I didn’t have a father growing up and I didn’t know how to be one, so whenever things got tense between him and me or me and his mom, I would run. By the time I realized that the most important thing was just to be there, it was too late. He was grown. Snoke had him.”

Most of Rey’s opinions of Han had been formed in the last few hours, but still, hearing him confess to his failings like this felt a bit like watching a legend fall. It was pathetic, but Rey had encountered so few father-figures in her life, she had felt an immediate bond with Han. 

Now she felt a swell of sympathy for Kylo. Rey might not have had a wealth of experience with fathers, but she did have plenty of experience with being left behind. Rey had had two parents walk out on her before she was even old enough to properly remember them. Not to even mention all the foster parents that had thrown her away like trash. 

She didn’t often let herself think about it, but she wondered sometimes if maybe the experience of being abandoned was behind a lot of her issues with love and relationships. Maybe that was why she had such a hard time opening up? Maybe that was why Kylo was a little weird, too?

Before she could really investigate that train of thought further, Han interrupted her. “Does he know what you do with the money?” he asked.

“What?” she asked, too caught up in her own thoughts and questions to remember that Han probably had a lot of questions too. Taking in the grizzled older man’s uncharacteristically pensive brow was a sobering reminder that Rey was not alone in all of this.

“Does he know that you donate all the money?” Han elaborated. “It’s just, Leia’s mentioned that you give a lot of your money to the Resistance.” 

“No,” Rey swallowed. “I never tell them.” 

“Good,” Han grunted. “Don’t. He won’t like it. God knows Leia was a better parent than me by a mile, but she wasn’t perfect, either. The Resistance took up a lot of her time when he was a kid, and I think he resented it.”

Rey nodded. “I won’t mention it. To be honest, I think they’d be a lot less generous if they knew. Being able to do something so frivolous with their money, it seems like the point for a lot of them.”

“Not Ben,” Han said with a surprising degree of confidence. “That’s not him. But if he finds out the money is going to his mother’s other ‘child’, he’ll be upset. I don’t want to mess up whatever truce they’ve finally struck.” 

“Understood,” Rey said. “I don’t want to mess up my thing with him either.” She glanced sideways at Han, unwilling to look him in the eye as she said the next part. “Leia wants to try and open that second branch, you know? Kylo’s been… generous, and I know she’ll make good use of whatever he gives me.” 

Han coughed. “Look, whatever understanding you have with Ben, that’s between you and Ben. Just… try not to hurt him, Rey.” 

“It’s not like that! I don’t think we’re at a place where we’re even capable of hurting each other,” she insisted, but the words rang false even to her own ears. Rey had known since the first time they slept together that Kylo had _feelings_ for her. She’d told herself that it didn’t matter. That she’d push him too far or he’d get tired of her just like every other daddy. But face to face with his father it was harder to pretend. The back of her throat tightened up as she changed tact. “I’ll try,” she offered instead.

“Good,” Han said, before clearing his throat and straightening up. “It’s late. I’m staring down the barrel of a long talk with Leia in the morning, and I’m thinking I should really get some sleep before that.”

“Of course!” Rey cried, jumping to her feet to let him go home. “Thank you, Han,” she said softly, the lump in her throat still there. “For everything. Thank Leia for me, too.” 

“I’m sure she’ll be in touch with you soon.” Han smiled wryly as he gathered up his things. “Probably before I’m even finished telling her about you and Ben.”

Rey gave him back her own hollow smile. “You don’t think she’ll be mad at me, do you?”

“Not a chance, kid,” he told her with a wink. “She adores you. If she needs to be mad at anyone, I’m sure she’ll find a way to make it Ben.”

 

* * *

 

Leia hadn’t been mad.

In fact, the next day, when Rey finally got out of her conference and returned the several calls she’d missed from Leia, the older woman had sounded so decidedly _not mad_ that Rey worried Leia had misinterpreted the nature of her relationship with Kylo.

Was it normal to invite your son’s sugar baby to a family dinner? Especially one you knew your son would never come to because his estranged father would be in attendance? Was it normal to offer to show your son’s sugar baby his childhood photos? And unsubtly ask her about her plans for the holidays?

What exactly had Han told her?

Rey obsessively replayed every mention of Kylo she’d ever unwittingly made in the presence of his mother, and was left with little doubt the Leia understood what Kylo was to Rey: not a boyfriend, but a mark. Rey had been too candid about her scheme and there were too many daddies before Kylo for Leia not to realize he was just another rich man that Rey was trying to bleed dry. 

Leia’s seemingly delighted reaction to the news of Rey and Kylo was odd, of course, but at least Rey didn’t have to worry about Leia discovering her motivation and getting upset. Leia already knew exactly what Rey was doing.

Rey’s certainty grew as the conversation continued. Leia agreed with Rey and Han that Kylo shouldn’t be told about Rey’s connection to the Resistance. She explained that “Ben” had a bit of a history of outsized reactions to perceived wrongs, and that she worried this would similarly trigger him. 

Rey bristled at Leia’s description of Kylo’s “moods.” Like with Han, she was starting to see the human behind the legend. Leia wasn’t perfect. She hadn’t been a perfect mother to Kylo and she wasn’t perfect now, talking about her practically middle-aged son as if he were a toddler throwing tantrums in the grocery store. Rey already knew Kylo had a temper, but she also saw how much effort he put into keeping himself in check. He’d never given her a reason to distrust that. And, honestly, if he ever were to find out about Rey’s scheme, being upset would probably be justified.

She didn’t say any of his to Leia, though. She just let the older woman continue, talking about how best to break the news “down the road.” 

Wait a minute, what did she mean “down the road”? Rey had no intention of _ever_ telling Kylo what she was up to. She’d never told any of her other sugar daddies about her work with the Resistance. Why would she tell Kylo? 

This felt like something she might need to revisit with Leia, eventually, but for now, she thought, it was probably fine. _Probably Kylo would just break things off with her before it ever came up again_ , she told herself, her stomach lurching uncomfortably. 

As long as everyone kept their mouth shut in the immediate future, nothing had to change.

 

* * *

 

Rey’s first real test of keeping her mouth shut came Sunday afternoon, when she met up with Kylo for a late lunch and to return his Mercedes.

“Hi,” he told her with a warm smile as she slid into the booth across from him. He was dressed simply, in jeans and a black sweater, but somehow still managed to look out of place against the kitschy, retro decor. Rey had been the one to pick the diner, so the vibe was significantly more casual than the white-tablecloth restaurants Kylo usually favored. “How was the conference?” he asked, as she passed over his keys. “Did everything go okay with the car?” 

“Oh, it was fine,” Rey told him, her voice too high and too bright. She hadn’t been able to help it. His question had immediately brought to the forefront of her mind all of the things she had committed not to mention: the dent, Luke Skywalker, Leia, Han. All topics she had hoped to completely ignore, and, instead, she was giving herself away with amateur tells like her voice pitching up. Kylo obviously noticed because he gave her a puzzled look. She buried her nose in her menu in order to avoid his eye.

Why was she so nervous? She’d been playing the part of a sugar baby for years, so why was it suddenly so difficult to pretend like she didn’t know his entire family?

“Is everything alright?” Kylo asked her, sounding concerned.

Rey took a deep breath and lowered the menu. “I’m fine.” She tried to smile at him. “Really, the conference was great. The car was great—thanks again! It was just a long three days, you know? It was a lot to take in, but also kind of boring, if that makes sense?”

Their waiter must have seen Rey put her menu aside because he chose that moment to approach the table, before Kylo could do much more than give Rey a commiserating nod. After they placed their orders (Kylo the Reuben, no bread, steamed veggies on the side, and Rey the Challah French toast, a side of bacon and hashbrowns, and a slice of cheesecake in a box), Kylo turned back and asked her, “How was the keynote?” 

Rey jerked forward. “What? How? Uh… why are you asking me that?” she questioned, trying hard to sound curious instead of panicky. Rey hadn’t given Kylo any details about her conference, except that it was in Corellia, but maybe he had looked it up? There probably weren’t that many other conferences relevant to an MPA student, happening in Corellia at the same time. And if he knew which conference she had been attending, of course he’d also know his uncle was a featured guest. If Rey remembered correctly, Dr. Skywalker had been prominently featured in the conference marketing.

Kylo just frowned at her and said, “I just thought the keynote speaker was supposed to be the most interesting part.”

“Oh,” Rey replied, leaning back in her seat and feeling the tension leave her body. “Yeah, usually. The keynote was fine. His research is actually super relevant to this project I’m doing, so that was nice,” she continued. 

“What’s your project?” he asked, sounding so genuinely curious that Rey felt a bit guilty when she pivoted.

“We don’t have to talk about my conference,” she told him. “It’s all I’ve thought about for three whole days.” (Patently false. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Ben Solo since Friday.) “Really, let’s talk about something else.” 

“Er, okay,” he said. “What did you do last night, after you got home? Anything interesting?” 

Again with the uncomfortably targeted questions. Rey had spent the evening on the phone with Leia before passing out on top of her sheets with the lights still on. “I fell asleep watching YouTube videos,” she told him instead. 

“Fuck, sometimes I forget how young you are,” Kylo laughed. “YouTube, really? What do you even watch on there? Memes?”

“Could you at least try not to sound a hundred years old?” Rey asked, with a long-suffering sigh. “I watch cooking videos, actually.” (She wasn’t strictly lying. Rey and Finn had been absolutely obsessed with the Bon Appetit YouTube channel for weeks now. She was just fudging the timeline a bit…) “It’s all very professional. Better than any of the shows on… er, what’s that old person thing called again? Oh, that’s right, cable.” 

Kylo cracked a smile. “Cooking shows? I didn’t know you cooked,” he said with interest. 

Rey didn’t. Unless you counted the egg and green onion she sometimes added to her instant ramen. “That’s because you don’t know everything about me,” she huffed.

“No, but I’d like to,” he said, the same closed-mouth smile she’d become rather fond of over the past few weeks permeating his face.

“Anyway,” she said, through a fresh flush, “these videos. They’re not really about the cooking. They’re about the personalities. This one series, for example, a pastry chef recreates from scratch all the gas station classics: Twinkies, Snickers, Doritos. You get it. And she’s so lovely and human and…” Rey wasn’t sure how long she kept going on about her favorite online celebrity chefs. Too long, for sure. But there was just something about Kylo saying he wanted to know everything about her that triggered her nervous word vomit.

Finally, he interrupted. “Rey, you’re babbling,” he told her gently. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem really nervous about something.” 

What the fuck was wrong with her? She was giving it all away! “Really, everything’s fine!” she said, flinching when she heard that same overly bright tone.

“Are you sure? Because I wanted to talk to you about something, but I can wait if it’s not a good time.” 

Oh god, was he about to break up with her? 

Wait, that didn’t make any sense. He’d just said he wanted to get to know her better… Was he about to confront her about knowing his family? 

“I’m really, really fine, Kylo. Tell me what you wanted to talk to me about.” 

“Okay,” he began, pausing to take a deep breath, his massive chest rising and falling with the action. “I know I don’t talk about my family very much—” _Fucking hell, it was happening!_ “—but my mom is heavily involved in philanthropy. She has this non-profit that she’s been running since I was a kid—” _Was this what a heart attack felt like?_ “—and they’re having a silent auction this Saturday. I know it’s last minute, but I was wondering if you’d like to be my date? I wasn’t going to ask, because I know it might be weird for you with my parents there, but… I want you to come.” He took another bracing breath. “What do you think?”

Rey was quiet for a long time, trying to process what Kylo had just said to her. 

He was asking her to go to the Resistance’s Gala and Silent Auction. She’d gotten that much, at least. Poe had been talking about the event for weeks, especially the many impressive donations he had solicited from Chandrila’s uber-rich… and Rey. Even Finn had managed to emerge from his study cave long enough to express excited anticipation. 

Rey, though, hadn’t even been planning to go. She’d expected instead to spend the evening with Kylo, ending up tangled together in his sheets. But she supposed that could still happen even if she accompanied him to his mother’s fundraiser. 

Oh god, his _mother’s_ fundraiser! The same fundraiser that his father would almost certainly be attending. Kylo was willingly going to spend an evening in his father’s company! Sure, from everything Poe had said the venue was going to be a massive ballroom, but still! This felt like a major step for Kylo. She wanted to be there to support him.

“Rey? Did you hear what I asked?” he pushed, looking incredibly nervous himself.

“Yes,” Rey told him. 

His eye twitched as he waited for her to continue. 

“Kylo,” she said, realizing he hadn’t taken the word as an answer to his earlier question. “I’d love to go with you. Of course.” 

His relief was palpable. So much so that she almost saw teeth in his smile. “We can get you a new outfit. Today, if you’d like. It’s black-tie optional, of course. Mom never could commit to a dress code…”

As Kylo started going over the various preparations they’d need to make before Saturday, Rey only half-listened. One thought dominated her mind: She needed to talk to Leia ASAP.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My only link on this chapter is to the glorious [Bon Appetit YouTube Channel](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCbpMy0Fg74eXXkvxJrtEn3w), specifically the [Gourmet Makes Series](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKtIunYVkv_RwB_yx1SZrZC-ddhxyXanh), featuring everyone's internet crush, Claire.
> 
> Okay, I'll give you one more link. The reason I felt okay making Rey obsessed with Bon Appetit, an admittedly corporate food magazine and YouTube channel, is because one of their competitors (maybe? Possibly they are both owned by the same evil corporation, Conde Nast?) Epicurious posted this god awful [job posting](https://lifehacker.com/how-to-identify-and-report-an-illegal-job-posting-1833295818) on Twitter and got dragged by labor activists, the NYS Dept of Labor, and everyone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Resistance's Annual Gala and Silent Auction goes pretty much exactly the way you would expect a gala to go in a Reylo fic. 😅

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thank you [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for betaing! Also, thank you [Situation_Normal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/situation_normal/pseuds/situation_normal) for giving me plot feedback and advice!

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/182538674@N08/48617206263/in/dateposted-public/)

“You look nervous,” Kylo told her as they sat in the back of a town car, on their way to the 29th Annual Gala and Silent Auction Benefiting the Resistance Center for Economic Justice. 

Rey smiled shakily up at him. “Tell me more about your parents,” she prompted, trying to play off her mounting dread over how many things could go wrong tonight as run-of-the-mill nerves at the prospect of meeting her boyfriend’s parents.

In reality, Rey had been coordinating with Kylo’s parents all week. Leia had even taken some time at the end of the Resistance’s last staff meeting to tell everyone that Rey’s latest sugar daddy would be attending their gala, and that she and Rey agreed it was probably better if he didn’t know about Rey’s affiliation with their cause. Since everyone already knew about Rey’s creative side hustle, and especially how much it had benefited the Resistance, they had readily agreed to treat her like a stranger for one evening.

That had been a low point for Rey. It was one thing to lie to Kylo by omission. It was something else entirely to rope a bunch of other people into helping her fabricate an alternate reality; one where she’d never even heard of the Resistance. She felt like Ed Harris in the Truman Show. Or maybe Leia was Ed Harris and she was Paul Giamatti? It didn’t matter. Neither comparison was particularly flattering.

“You’ll probably just meet my mom, tonight,” Kylo told her, answering her earlier question. “Her name’s Leia. It’s her event.” As he spoke, he reached down to take her hand and hold it in his own.

“Oh?” Rey asked casually. “Your dad won’t be there?” (She already knew he would be.)

“No, he’ll be there. I just… don’t want you to be overwhelmed. I know it’s a lot, meeting my family. Since my mom’s the hostess and she likes to greet her guests, I can’t help you meeting her. But after that, I was thinking we could keep a low profile.” He looked down at their clasped hands. “Not that many people know that Leia is my mom, anyway.” 

Rey felt her spine stiffen and she pulled her hand loose from his. “Oh? Is Ren not your family name?”

“No, I chose it myself some time in college,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I was determined not to rely on my family legacy to open doors for me, so I changed it. Put some distance between me and them.”

 _Ha_ , Rey thought, fiddling with her D2-R2 clutch to give herself something to do besides rolling her eyes at him. _As if Kylo’s family name was the only thing that gave him a leg up in life. Setting aside the fact that he was tall, white, and male, what about his Ivy League education? In a world where Jared Kushner was a Harvard alum, no one could convince Rey _that_ was a merit-based system._

Before she’d even begun cataloging his privilege, however, the constant, nagging guilt in the back of her mind reasserted itself and reminded her that she wasn’t in any place to judge. She was lying to him. And on a truly elaborate scale, too. It was probably best not to claim the moral high ground when she had that weighing against her.

Instead, she gave him back her hand and said, “I don’t mind lying low with you.” The fact was, lying low would probably be better. It would help her avoid interacting with anyone from the Resistance, giving them fewer opportunities to blow her cover. Rey might have been a practiced actress, thanks to her years spent sugaring, but no one else in the Resistance could claim the same. She just _knew_ Snap would be terrible at it.

 

* * *

 

The gala was being held at a luxury hotel in the middle of downtown Chandrila. Rey had been there many times over the course of her sugaring career, grabbing drinks at the trendy bar or dinner at the celebrity chef-owned restaurant. In fact, Rey’s very first meet and greet, where she had been inspired to take up her Robin Hood-like mantle and sugar for the greater good, had happened there.

She knew the concierge, Mr. Threepio, was a long-time friend of Leia’s, from back in her student activist days. Rey had only met the man a handful of times, but she was constantly surprised by their friendship. He just seemed so fussy and worry-prone. Not the kind of person Rey would have expected Leia to ally herself with.

He was certainly a dedicated Resistance supporter, though. Poe had told her Threepio was the whole reason the hotel owners, Endor Holdings, had agreed to do the event at cost, saving the Resistance thousands of dollars. Not to mention the hours he donated appraising items for the silent auction. 

Tonight, he seemed to have swapped out his concierge desk for the gala welcome table. “Please grab your table assignment and make your way into our cocktail reception,” Threepio was telling a couple as Rey and Kylo entered the lobby. “Oh, and don’t forget to have Mr. Artoo validate your parking,” he said, gesturing toward the shorter, stouter man seated beside him.

As Rey started moving toward the table, she sensed Kylo hesitating behind her. “What’s wrong?” she asked, turning to find Kylo in the midst of retreating back to the revolving door. “Did you forget your checkbook in the car?” she asked, already knowing that wasn’t the problem.

“I—” Before he had a chance to continue, though, Leia and a lavender-haired woman in a _very_ interesting taupe-colored gown emerged from an adjoining room. Leia focused in on them immediately. “Ben!” she called out in her signature rasp, “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

Kylo sighed and started trudging toward his mother, grabbing Rey’s hand on the way. He didn’t have to say anything for her to get the message: _Don’t make me do this alone, please._ She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It’s Kylo, _Leia_ ,” Kylo said through gritted teeth. 

Leia laughed before noticing he was serious and adopting a brittle smile. “It’s only Threepio, Artoo, and Amilyn, Ben. There’s no need to grandstand. They’ve probably all changed your diapers.” 

Kylo looked around in alarm before narrowing in on Leia. “Mom—er Leia! I would remind you that I only agreed to come to this event because you promised to address me by my _legal_ name.” 

Now it was Leia’s turn to loudly sigh. “Yes, fine. Hello, Kylo Ren. Welcome. Please introduce me to the lovely woman you’re all but clinging onto for dear life.”

Kylo glanced down to where he was currently squeezing the life out of Rey’s hand and loosened his grip. “Sorry,” he whispered before turning to address his mother. “Leia, I’d like to introduce you to Rey Niima, MPA Candidate at Chandrila University. Rey, this is Leia Organa, founder and director of the Resistance Center for Economic Justice.” He pronounced it with all the formality of someone introducing a Duchess to a Queen.

Leia chanced a wink at Rey as they shook hands. “Lovely to meet you, dear,” she said, seemingly unfazed by the massive deception she was helping to orchestrate against her own son. Rey, though, knew it was just an act. During their many strategy sessions, Rey had seen the pain, guilt, and love in Leia’s eyes when talking about her son.

What Rey didn’t fully understand was why, in the face of all that, Leia was still doing this. Why was she helping Rey when it could hurt Kylo? 

It was the wrong moment for reflection, though, Rey realized as Leia began introducing her to the others. “May I introduce Mr. C. Threepio, his partner Mr. Artoo, and Ms. Amilyn Holdo?” Leia said. ”Threepio and Artoo are long-time supporters of the Resistance and Amilyn is a member of our board.” Rey shook each hand in turn.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Threepio addressed her. “May I just say that your dress is absolutely stunning? You wear it so well.”

Rey flushed and glanced down at her half-satin, draped tuxedo dress. _I better,_ she thought. _It was almost $4,000! At least the brand has a high resale value…_

Rey had been horrified when she saw the price on the Alexander McQueen gown. She’d meant to test Kylo’s generosity when shopping for the gala, but she’d never meant to go quite so far. A $7,000 Rolex was one thing because Rey could be reasonably confident it would resell at a similar price. A gown was entirely another. As she’d watched him swipe his card, she’d thought about the $1,500 that would be knocked off the value as soon as she stepped out in it. She’d even looked up the store's return policy before cutting off the tags. Unfortunately, there’d been no hope. Refunds were credited back to the original form of payment—in this case, Kylo’s black card.

Of course, she didn’t share any of this with Threepio. To him, she just said, “Thank you.”

“Ben—oh, wait, that’s not right. Kyle, was it? Anyway, we’re so glad you could join us this year,” offered Amilyn. “Your absence has been felt this last… decade, was it?”

Rey smothered her laugh with a polite cough and reflected she rather liked this Amilyn person. She seemed like the type of person who wouldn’t put up with bullshit. Rey couldn’t see Kylo’s ears under his hair, but she guessed they were turning quite red.

“ _Kylo_ has missed our last thirteen fundraisers,” Leia said cooly, “but of course, tonight is not about the past. It’s about the future of the Resistance and the important work we’re doing. We have some very talented new blood coming into the organization—” she looked pointedly at Rey, “—that has brought a lot of fresh hope to our cause.” 

Artoo leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to Rey, “No pressure.” 

Rey turned to him. She’d wondered if Artoo, Threepio, and Amilyn knew about her connection to the Resistance. Seeing how Artoo was smirking at her now, she had her answer.

“What are you saying to her?’ demanded Threepio on his other side. “Spare the poor girl your ‘wit’, Artoo.” 

“I wasn’t saying anything,” defended Artoo. “Although, if memory serves, Leia, Professor Kenobi was your only hope, once. And then Skywalker before he absconded to academia. And yet, we’re still here fighting the good fight. It’s almost as if the Resistance is bigger than any one person or any one hope.” 

“Yes, thank you for the reminder that you have a photographic memory, Artoo,” Leia said sarcastically. “Anyway, for all Kylo’s obvious efforts, he hasn’t quite managed to miss the cocktail reception. There’s still plenty of time for the two of you to mingle,” she said, addressing Rey and Kylo.

Kylo stopped glancing suspiciously between Rey and Artoo to turn to his mother. “On the contrary, Leia,” he said in the tone of someone on their last nerve. “I fully intended to take advantage of the reception’s open bar.”

“A trait you inherited from your father,” Leia said with a curl of her lip.

Kylo actually flinched at the invocation of Han.. 

Rey watched as Leia’s bravado seemed to fade in real-time. That flinch had revealed just how difficult this evening was for Kylo, how many of his own feelings he had set aside to be here for Leia. “Kylo,” she said, her tone noticeably softened, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Of course, mom,” he whispered back, his own voice devoid of all the formality and tension it had held for the last several minutes. It was as if the Kylo Ren mask had dropped and Rey was seeing Ben Solo for the very first time. 

But then she blinked and he was gone, Kylo Ren firmly back in his place.

 

* * *

 

Kylo deftly maneuvered himself and Rey around the perimeter of the room, his purposeful march toward the bar warding off any would-be socializers. When they reached the bartender he tersely ordered two fingers of whiskey for himself and a glass of white wine for Rey. Normally, Rey would have been annoyed at Kylo ordering for her, but in light of what had just been revealed, she thought she could let this one go. She had been planning to order a white wine, anyway.

“Always wine with this one,” she heard someone joke behind her. Rey felt a cold finger of dread creep up her spine as she turned to find herself face-to-face with Snap. 

“Excuse me?” Kylo said, having turned too. Rey heard the annoyance in Kylo’s voice, but Snap didn’t seem to have noticed it.

“Rey,” Snap said indicating toward her. “She’s always drinking wine. That is, when she isn’t slamming back margarit—”

“SNAP!” Rey quickly cut him off. “How funny seeing you here! It’s been forever. Do you work at the Resistance now or something?” she said, trying to tamp down the frantic quality in her voice.

“Rey, what are you—” Rey glared daggers at him. “—oh. OH! Yes, I’m at the Resistance. And you’re obviously doing something else because we haven’t seen each other in so long.” 

Rey dropped her murderous gaze and turned to Kylo. “Kylo, this is my old friend Snap Wexley. We know each other from undergrad. So crazy that he’s here. Snap, this is Kylo Ren, my date.” 

Kylo narrowed his eyes as he shook Snap’s hand. “You two went to undergrad together?” he asked skeptically. “You and her?” Rey suddenly remembered the very noticeable age gap between her and Snap. _Fuck._

“Of course not!” Rey said through forced laughter, Snap awkwardly joining in after a moment. “I went to undergrad with his _much_ younger sister. I met Snap through her.” 

“We dated,” Snap offered.

“We went on _a_ date,” Rey corrected. “It was a setup and it didn’t go anywhere.” Snap looked mildly offended by Rey’s dismissal, but she didn’t care. She wanted this conversation to be over yesterday. “Well, Snap, you probably need to get back to something, so we won’t keep you,” Rey said, trying to convey with her eyes just how unwelcome his presence was. 

For once in his life, Snap seemed to pick up on a cue. “Oh! You know what? I see Poe over there and I really need to talk to him. Nice seeing you again, Rey. And good to meet you, uh, Kylo.” 

Rey and Kylo watched as Snap quickly shuffled across the room in the direction of Poe and Finn. Finn caught Rey’s eye and he raised a brow in question. All Rey could do in reply was glance at Kylo, glare at Snap’s retreating form, and hope Finn understood the depth of her meaning. Ever perceptive, her best friend just grimaced back until Snap stood beside him.

“I can’t believe you dated that man,” said Kylo, once Snap was out of earshot.

“It was _a_ date,” she said defensively. “One. And it was a complete disaster. He used a Groupon.” 

Kylo’s mouth twitched like it wanted to smile. “You’re telling me that story,” he said, “but first, I’m going to need you to tell me what exactly a Groupon is.”

A laugh erupted out of Rey. “Alright, Grandpa Warbucks, grab our drinks and settle in...”

 

* * *

 

Rey’s (heavily revised) story took up the rest of the cocktail reception, and then everyone was being escorted into the large ballroom for the dinner portion of the evening. 

As Kylo led her across the room to their assigned table, Rey caught sight of Rose sitting with her sister Paige, both of them elegantly decked in fall florals. Knowing Rose, the dresses were probably freecycled and then tailored to perfection by Paige. As Rey passed, she couldn’t help but give them a sly, approving nod. Both women grinned back at her.

She looked around the rest of the room and was struck by the sheer number of gala attendees. The cocktail reception had had a much more come-and-go atmosphere, with people still arriving up until the end and everyone else milling between the open bar and the silent auction. As such, Rey hadn’t been able to get a good sense of attendance. Now, though, the ballroom was a veritable sea of posh faces (plus a few less than posh faces—like Snap’s). With so many strangers, Rey thought her chances of avoiding any more Snap-like incidences tonight were very good. 

When they arrived at their table, however, Poe and Finn were waiting for them. “Oh!” Rey said in surprise. “Are we sure this is right?” 

“Kylo Ren and Rey Niima?” Poe asked, smirkingly.

“Yes,” Kylo said, a bit curtly. Honestly, it was probably no more curt than usual, but Rey seemed to notice it more when it was directed at her friends. For some reason, she desperately wanted him to make a good impression.

“You’re in the right place, then,” Poe offered, seeming unfazed by Kylo’s tone. “We had to make a few last-minute changes to the seating chart this afternoon, and you were placed here. It’s all very fresh in my mind, you see.” 

“Hopefully that’s alright,” Finn added, looking directly at Rey as he said it, his voice full of apology.

Kylo glanced around the room until his eyes settled somewhere far off to the left. Rey followed his gaze and saw Han Solo, laughing with someone who looked a lot like Maz Kanata ( _Good god, this gala was a minefield!_ ) many tables away from them. “Yes, this should be fine,” Kylo said, turning back to them and pulling Rey’s chair out for her. She sat down next to Poe, but not before leveling him with one of her withering glares. 

It seemed to bounce right off of him. “I’m Poe,” he offered once Kylo was settled. “Poe Dameron, Resistance Deputy Director. And this is Finn Storm, my boyfriend.” 

“Kylo Ren, as you said,” Kylo offered cooly. “And my date, Rey Niima. Nice to meet you.” 

“Yes, nice to meet you,” Rey forced out, through gritted teeth.

“We’ve been seated with the international contingent tonight,” Poe explained. “So the rest of our table won’t speak any English. I guess that means we’ll have to fill the silence with getting to know each other better.” 

“How fortuitous,” said Rey. “Kylo, isn’t that fortuitous that the only dinner companions we’ll be able to speak to are Finn and Poe?”

“Oh. Hm,” Kylo replied disinterestedly. “Sure, I suppose. Although, I don’t mind silence.” 

Poe opened his mouth to say something but, before he could get a word out, Rey gestured to the stage. “Oh, look at that. Leia’s stepping up to the microphone. I guess that means we should all be quiet now,” she said in a tone brokering no argument.

“For now,” Poe agreed, the teasing threat clear in his voice.

 

* * *

 

True to Poe’s threat, Leia’s opening message had not lasted very long. She welcomed the gala attendees, briefly summarized the mission of the Resistance, and introduced their latest initiative: addressing childhood food insecurity. She explained to the crowd that the food for the evening was based on meals created for that program. With the generosity of gala attendees, children across Chandrila would soon have access to identical meals, both as school lunches and as freezer meals in insulated backpacks for the children to take home over the weekend. Rey couldn’t help beaming as Leia spoke, knowing her research and work had been integral to this new initiative.

As Leia concluded her remarks and the first course was served, the buzz of dinner conversation began all around.

Rey was pleasantly surprised by how well behaved Poe was through the first two courses. He kept the conversation on appropriate topics, mostly asking Kylo about his work and speaking of his own work without any mention of Rey. She and Finn both contributed to the conversation when called upon, but they were also engaged in their own lively discussion about YouTube cooking channels.

It all changed with dessert.

“So,” began Poe. “Did anyone see that viral op-ed in the Chandrila Tribune? The one about public libraries?”

“Poe,” Finn warned. 

“No,” said Kylo.

“I think I must have missed that one,” said Rey, easily resisting the temptation to engage.

“Basically, it was all about how public libraries are anti-capitalist and take hard-earned money away from authors,” Poe explained. “And something about them being back door channels to socialism.”

“The article did not say anything about socialism!” Rey exclaimed, drawing the eyes of all three men.

Poe grinned at her. “So you did read it, then?” 

_Fuck,_ Rey though, more annoyed at herself for taking Poe’s bait than at him for offering it, but still plenty annoyed at him! He was clearly enjoying watching her flail and now she had no choice but to flail further. All eyes were still on her. “Now that you mention it, I do think I saw that one,” she replied calmly.

“And what did you think?” Poe prompted.

“I…” 

“Well, now I’m curious,” added Kylo. “What was your takeaway, Rey?”

“I…” Rey paused, contemplating the best way to answer the question. The real Rey loved public libraries. Growing up in a less than stellar situation, the library had been a safe haven, giving Rey a place to read, do her homework, or just escape her foster parent-of-the-month. And the fact that they were a widely-accepted socialist institution? A feature, not a bug. 

But she’d told Kylo she thought socialist ideas were radical, and not in a good way. She’d even offered some pro-capitalism word soup to support her (fake) position. What would _that_ person say about libraries?

“I… thought that op-ed writer made a good point,” Rey said, lamely. 

“You did?” Kylo cried, sounding… appalled?

Finn was looking at her as if she’d just sprouted an extra head.

“Which point?” Poe asked. “The one where he said libraries should have to pay authors a per checkout royalty, ballooning their operating costs, or the one where he said libraries shouldn’t be funded with tax dollars, massacring their budgets?”

“Uh, both?” she said, wincing internally at the lie. “Um, _I_ don’t use the library so why should my tax dollars support it, especially when it’s stealing money from authors?”

Kylo just stared at her, wide-eyed, until he finally shook his head and turned to Poe. “Er, personally, I think libraries are a worthy public investment.” 

Rey balked at him. “ _You_ do?” 

Kylo turned to her. “Public libraries provide free access to information and promote literacy. They’ve always been a focus of my family’s philanthropic efforts. In fact my Grandpa Bail used to insist that any library he supported also get support from the local government. He believed the community needed to feel an ownership stake in their library, and that public funding was critical to that.”

“Was you grandfather Andrew Carnegie?” joked Finn from across the table.

“Er, I didn’t say his idea was particularly original,” Kylo replied.

Rey was shocked. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting from a consummate capitalist like Kylo, at all. Had she misjudged him? “I had no idea you felt this way,” she told him in awe.

He looked at her a bit apologetically. “I don’t really want to fight about libraries, but yes. Obviously, my mom took it a step further. She thinks instead of philanthropists making willing donations, we should just tax the hell out of every rich person and use that money to fund libraries. But, you don’t have to be a socialist like her to support public libraries as an institution.”

“Oh, no,” Rey hurried to say. “I’m not fighting with you. Your argument is very convincing. Not to mention, you know, libraries give little kids without a lot of money access to books. What kind of monster would I have to be to fight against that?”

Kylo smiled and reached out to squeeze Rey’s hand. 

“You know what’s funny?” Poe began. “Leia has the exact same opinions as your mother and her father is also named Bai—” Rey kicked Poe hard under the table, ruining whatever moment she and Kylo had just been having. “OW!” cried Poe loudly. 

“Oh, sorry about that,” said Rey, without any real apology in her voice. “Must have been a leg spasm or something.” 

“I’m sure.” Poe glared.

Kylo watched the exchange with a furrowed brow, and Rey wondered what, if anything, he suspected. After a moment, though, his brow smoothed out and her turned to Finn. “So, Finn. What do you do?” 

Finn must have been eager to diffuse the growing tension between his best friend and his boyfriend because he rushed to say, “I’m a third-year law student.” 

“Really? What kind of law are you interested in?”

“Litigation,” Finn replied. “I spent my 2L summer working in private equity litigation, but I’m interested in most types. Eventually, I’d just like to be able to feel good about what I’m doing.”

“Fuck,” said Kylo, sounding impressed. “Good for you. Which firm were you at?”

“Yoda, Windu, Koon & Mundi.” Finn replied.

“Great firm,” Kylo told him. “I know they had some trouble with Palpatine & Maul a while back, but they were the firm that advised me through my transition out of the First Order. Ahsoka Tano represented me when I testified against Snoke.” 

“Yeah, I know Ahsoka,” Finn said, excitedly. “She’s great. You know she quit to go open her own boutique firm in Lothal, right?”

“I heard a rumor. I’ll be sorry to see her go, but I knew she was getting disillusioned with how some of the partners wanted to run the firm,” Kylo said. “If you’re privy to this kind of information, though, you must have gotten an offer for after graduation, right?” 

“Finn hasn’t—” began Poe, but Finn stopped him. He looked over before saying, “Yeah, they made me an offer.” 

“They did?” cried Poe. “WHAT? When? Why didn’t you say anything?? This is incredible, Finn! We have to celebrate!”

Silence.

“Finn?” asked Poe. 

Finn put his arm around the back of his boyfriend’s chair and leaned into him. “Let’s just enjoy the evening and we can talk about this later,” he suggested with a shaky smile.

“Why are you being weird?” Poe pushed.

“I… let’s not do this here, okay?” 

“You are taking this job, right? It’s everything you’ve been working toward for three years now.”

“Poe, not now,” begged Finn. 

“I don’t understand why you’re being like this? Aren’t you happy?”

Rey’s brain finally caught up to the scene playing out in front of her. Her best friends were having a private conversation, in the middle of a crowded charity dinner, and she and Kylo were just sitting there, watching them like voyeurs. She turned to Kylo. “Do you want to go check out the Silent Auction?” she whispered. “Give them some privacy?” 

Kylo nodded.

Rey looked back at Finn and Poe, wondering if she should make some excuse, but they were exchanging tense whispers, completely unaware of anyone else at the table. With one last bite of her dessert, she grabbed her clutch and followed Kylo out of the ballroom.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t understand silent auctions,” Rey said, staring at a bid sheet. “It says right here in the fine print that this Bali travel package is only worth $6,200, but the top bid is already $7,000. Why? Aren’t rich people supposed to be good with their money? Isn’t that supposedly why they’re rich?”

Kylo glanced over. “Rich people are also ego-driven and competitive,” he told her. “Leia’s good at harnessing that to make money for her pet projects.”

“Apparently,” Rey replied, silently judging whoever Carise Sindian was for bidding so high. It was good for the Resistance, of course, but Rey was still a bit scandalized how easily these people threw around their money. Especially as they judged poor people for being the financially irresponsible ones.

“Sometimes they also genuinely want to support a good cause,” he told her, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “It’s either bid on a trip or write a check. Do you want to go to Bali?” he asked, his lips brushing against her ear. 

As Kylo kissed her neck, Rey closed her eyes and tried to picture it. She saw herself on a beach, Kylo in tiny white swim trunks beside her, the water shimmering a perfect aqua blue. Then they were tangled up together in bed, naked except for a crisp white sheet, that same blue ocean visible through the window of their thatched-roof bungalow. Finally, she saw them sweaty and smiling, hiking through a rainforest, her red-laced boots on her feet.

The images were tempting, for sure, but Rey had a policy: no getaways with sugar daddies if she could possibly help it. Cash and gifts were always preferable because cash could be donated and gifts could be resold, the proceeds going to good causes. Trips, though, only really benefited Rey. And none of this was meant for Rey’s personal benefit. 

_In this case, though_ , she thought, _the money spent on the trip _would_ be going to the Resistance. Was this an exception to the “trips are selfish” rule? No_, she decided a beat later, _because if Kylo didn’t bid on the Bali trip, he could probably be convinced to buy her something else, something that _could_ be resold. Maybe she’d finally get the Birkin bag she’d been angling for._

She looked over her shoulder and said, “Kylo, I can’t go all the way to Indonesia. I’m in school right now.”

“You get breaks, don’t you?” he said. “Winter break? Spring break? Summer?”

“Your mom would kill you if you went to Bali for the holidays,” she said. And then quickly added, “I mean, obviously I don’t know her very well, but she gives off that vibe.”

“No, you’re right,” he told her with a sigh. “I already promised her I’d take her out for dim sum on Christmas day. Spring break, then?”

“Kylo,” Rey said. Spring break was still five months away. Did Kylo really expect to keep Rey around for that long? Did Rey even want him to? The more she thought about it the more sure she became that she did want him to. And she _did_ want to go on a trip with him over Spring Break. After all, there was no guarantee that if Rey passed on Bali he’d buy her something else worth just as much. It was probably better for her to just take what he was offering, with minimal negotiation, right? “Well don’t just bid on the first travel package you see,” she told him, grinning. “We should at least check out all our options.” 

Kylo kissed her and moved to start looking over the other travel packages. Rey went to join him, but the wine display caught her eye first.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!_ Rey thought as she remembered the several bottles of wine, formerly of Kylo’s personal collection, currently up for bid. How could she have forgotten about the wine? She’d literally made it her mission for the past few weeks to never leave Kylo’s apartment without a new bottle. And it had worked. She’d amassed quite the collection for the Resistance’s Annual Gala and Silent Auction. The gala that she hadn’t had any idea Kylo was attending until Sunday afternoon. _Why hadn’t Leia pulled the bottles?_

“What are you… oh, wine? Was your ex-boyfriend Snap right about you?” he teased. “Are you a wine lush?” 

“I—”

“Let’s look,” he said, moving toward that part of the auction. “See if there’s anything you’re interested in.”

“Kylo, I can explain,” she told him as he circled the display and examined each lot. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, just waiting for the moment it clicked for him and all her omissions, half-truths, and flat-out lies were brought to light.

“Explain, what?” he asked, standing directly in front of his own bottles. “Is this about the wine lush comment? Because Rey, I know you’re not an alcoholic.” 

“No, I know that,” she said, nervously playing with her clutch. _Why wasn’t he saying anything about his bottles? He must have noticed by now._ “I mean about the wine.”

“I don’t know shit about wine,” he said when she didn’t continue. “I don’t even really like it. It’s been kind of nice having someone around who’s an appreciator.” He smiled his closed-mouth, crooked smile at her. 

“But… you have a wine collection…?” she said.

Kylo laughed. “Don’t tell anyone this, but I bought the collection with the apartment. They were selling, I could afford it, and, well, what else was I supposed to do with a wine room?”

“So you don’t even really know what’s in your collection?” she asked, clinging to hope like a life jacket.

“No idea,” he said. “You’ve had a few of the red, right? What did you think? Did I get my money’s worth.”

The universe was finally on Rey’s side. It was the only explanation she could think of for why this was happening for her right now. Kylo didn’t recognize his bottles. Rey was going to escape this gala without her cover being blown. After 23 years of struggle, the universe had finally decided to be kind to Rey.

Just as she opened her mouth to give Kylo her fabricated assessment of the quality of his wine collection, however—

“Ren, I didn’t expect to see you here,” a sneering voice came out of nowhere to interrupt.

Rey turned and her heart dropped as she recognized… Armitage Hux.

 

* * *

 

Rey hadn’t consciously thought of the name “Armitage Hux” in a long time. At some point, he’d just become “the first rich asshole” in her mind, like a title. She was, frankly, surprised that the name had come to her so easily upon seeing and being addressed by him for the first time in more than two years.

Except… she hadn’t been addressed by him, at all, she realized. He’d said “Ren” not “Rey”. He’d been talking to Kylo.

“I did hear you were on some kind of long, drawn-out image rehabilitation tour, post leaving the First Order,” Hux said, his voice dripping with condescension exactly the way Rey remembered it. “I didn’t expect you to still be on it. I can’t imagine any other reason someone like you would be at a charity gala.” 

“I’m not surprised you can’t think of any non-selfish reasons to attend a charity function,” said Kylo, taking a step in front of Rey. He seemed to be trying to shield her from Hux’s unpleasant presence, but all it seemed to do was draw Hux’s attention toward her. “No one ever accused a Hux of having empathy,” Kylo continued.

“Now, now, Kylo,” scolded Hux, craning past him to try and get a better look at Rey. “There’s really no need to show off in front of your elegant friend. If she’s here with you I’m sure she’s already well aware of your one and only virtue: money.”

At that, Kylo clenched his fists and took a threatening step toward Hux. “Say another word about her, Hux,” he said.

“Kylo, stop,” she said, surging forward to grab onto his arm and pull him back toward her. “It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it,” she told him urgently.

“What are you talking about? Of course, you are,” Kylo told her at the same time Hux crowed, “Wait a minute. I know you!” He was practically vibrating with savage glee. “You’re that bitch who threw her drink at me! Good god, Kylo, I wasn’t being literal when I suggested you had to pay women to date you. I just figured she was a run-of-the-mill gold digger!”

“Keep talking, Hux,” Kylo seethed. “I dare you.” 

“I had no idea you were this obsessed with me, Ren,” Hux continued. “That you would go seeking out my sloppy seconds. How much did you have to pay a private investigator to track her down? I mean, this is some next-level stuff. All I told you about her was her first name and that she was a student. I’d be flattered that you went to so much trouble over me, but I’m just not interested in you in that way.” 

“What’s he talking about, Kylo?” Rey said, dropping her hand from his arm. “What does he mean ‘seeking out’ and ‘tracking down’?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Hux sarcastically, turning to Rey. “Did you think the great Kylo Ren picked you because you’re pretty? Your looks are a dime-a-dozen on that website, darling. No, he picked you to get back at me because _he’s obsessed with me!_ ”

“Kylo?” Rey asked, turning toward him. His expression looked pained and Rey felt her stomach drop precipitously. “Is he serious?” she said. “Did you already know who I was before you messaged me?” 

“Rey, I…there’s more to it than that,” he said.

“There really isn’t,” said Hux. “It’s pretty simple. Your ‘daddy’ got me drunk and then convinced me to air my dirtiest laundry, i.e., you. Then, he hunted you down so he could seduce you—if you can even call it that when all it takes is the right price—and embarrass me. Because, again, he’s _obsessed_ with me.”

Kylo laughed an empty, bitter laugh. “I didn’t have to get you drunk, Hux,” he told the other man. “You managed that entirely on your own. No, all I did was sit down next to you and you just started blabbering on about ‘Daddy Hux’ and college girls and 'pay for play'.”

“What the fuck, Kylo?” Rey practically spat at him. 

“Wait, Rey, that makes it sound worse than it is,” he tried, but she was already making her way to the door. 

“Rey, please, listen to me,” he said.

At that moment, Han Solo appeared in the doorway, probably sent by Leia to investigate what all the commotion was. He quickly assessed the situation. “What’s going on here?” he asked carefully, his eyes moving from Rey to Kylo to Hux.

“I was just leaving,” Rey told him, her traitorous voice cracking on the last word. She didn’t want Han to see her so close to her breaking point.

“Rey, wait!” Kylo said again, “Please, just let me explain.” 

Rey ignored Kylo and looked pleadingly up at Han. He looked at her for just a moment before stepping aside to let her pass. He must have let Kylo pass too, though, because as she entered the lobby, she heard him call her name once more. 

“Please, Rey,” Kylo begged. 

She spun around. “What, Kylo? What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice sounding sad and tired.

Kylo took a step back in shock. “I just want to explain,” he said, softer. 

“Where’s Hux?” she interrupted, looking over his shoulder.

“He’s… talking to Han,” Kylo said.

“You mean being stalled by Han,” Rey corrected. “So he can’t blow up your spot anymore?”

“Look, Rey, yes,” Kylo said, reaching out to place his hands on her shoulder. When Rey flinched away from his touch, he pulled back like she’d burned him. “Some of what Hux said was true, but a lot of it was bullshit. I just want to explain which is which.” 

“I don’t want to do this here,” Rey whispered. “I can’t do this here.”

“Then we’ll go somewhere,” he said. “I’ll call us a car and we can go back to my place and—”

“I just want to go home, Kylo,” she told him.

“Okay, then we can go to your place and—”

“I want to go home. Alone,” she said, her voice sounding so defeated. 

“This can’t be the end, Rey,” Kylo said, his voice thick with emotion. “It just can’t be. You have to let me explain—”

Rey sighed. “I just need to be alone right now,” she told him. “But you can call me tomorrow, yeah?” she said, patting his chest in a way she hoped was reassuring.” 

He looked like he wanted to protest. He even opened his mouth to say something before snapping it closed again. After what felt like a year he finally nodded tightly.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then,” she said before turning and walking out the door. Rey knew, of course, that being this upset over Kylo’s deception made her a hypocrite, but just now she wanted to feel sorry for herself without having to think about all that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Truman Show is a 1998 film about a man who doesn’t know his life is a reality tv show. Everyone around--his parents, his wife, his best friend--are actors. Ed Harris plays the show’s creator and director. Paul Giamatti is the conflicted right hand man. Watch the trailer [HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=loTIzXAS7v4).
> 
> Does being [tall](https://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2015/05/the-financial-perks-of-being-tall/393518/), [white](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Racial_wage_gap_in_the_United_States), and [male](https://www.businessinsider.com/gender-wage-pay-gap-charts-2017-3#the-number-of-women-promoted-to-the-highest-levels-within-companies-reveals-unconscious-biases-6) really mean you'll make more money? YES.
> 
> What’s the deal with Jared Kushner’s Harvard admission? [I’m so glad you asked!](https://www.propublica.org/article/the-story-behind-jared-kushners-curious-acceptance-into-harvard)
> 
> Here’s the [LINK](https://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/p/alexander-mcqueen-half-satin-tuxedo-dress-prod150580217) to Rey’s Alexander McQueen Gala dress. Alexander McQueen is the second best brand for resale value, according to [ ThredUp’s 2019 Resale Report](https://www.thredup.com/resale). 
> 
> What is [freecycling](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freecycling)?
> 
> This [utter stupidity](https://www.yahoo.com/lifestyle/library-receipt-goes-viral-7000-savings-214356680.html) was the inspiration for the library dialogue. 
> 
>  
> 
> [What is Socialism? Look No Further than Your Public LIbrary](https://shadowproof.com/2012/10/14/what-is-socialism-look-no-further-than-your-public-library/)
> 
>  
> 
> And here’s some info on [Carnegie libraries](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnegie_library), including Andrew Carnegie’s formula.
> 
> And here’s a link to the [Bali Tourism Board](https://www.balitourismboard.org/) website, in case you want to plan your own Balinese getaway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Finn mope together and Rey goes to the Resistance for a meeting with Leia. Then, things go awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, [Situation_Normal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/situation_normal/pseuds/situation_normal) drew me this amazing [FANART](https://twitter.com/situationnorma1/status/1165684385686917122?s=20) for the last chapter. It's perfect and I love it and she deserves all the love!! Both her fanfic and fanart are so joyful!
> 
> And, as always, thank you [K8](https://twitter.com/blessmycircuits) for betaing!

The morning after the gala, Rey woke up to a knock at her door. 

“Ugh,” she moaned into her pillow, her eyes still too tired to open. _How early was it?_ she thought through the fog, _or were her eyes this heavy because she’d fallen asleep crying?_

The memories of last night came flooding back to her as she remembered the reason for her tears. _Why had she woken up again?_

Knock. Knock.

 _Oh. That was it._

“Come in,” Rey called out groggily, her face still half-buried in her pillow.

“Er, Rey?” she heard Finn’s voice say. “This came for you.” 

Rey lifted her head. Finn was standing in her doorway, struggling under the weight of a massive floral arrangement in what looked like a crystal vase. “This isn’t all, either,” he told her, peeking around the protruding blooms. “There’s a wine crate in the hallway.” 

She let her head fall back down on the pillow.

“Rey!” Finn said again, his voice sounding more strained this time. 

Rey made a frustrated sound and got up to help Finn maneuver the flowers onto her bedside table. Once they were done, she snatched up the envelope, peeking out from between the blooms, and ripped it open. The first thing she found was a business card for the florist shop, proudly advertising their 100% locally-sourced and organically-grown products. _Ugh_ , and though. _She couldn’t even be annoyed that he’d bought her normal flowers doused in pesticides because he’d gone out of his way to buy her sustainable. Why did he have to make it so hard to be mad at him?_ she wondered. 

Rey cast aside the card and moved on to the handwritten note. 

“What does it say?” Finn prompted, watching her closely as she read the scribbled apology. It was short. Just an echo of yesterday’s sentiments, asking her to let Kylo explain before making any decision, and then something about Bali? She was still too foggy to process the second part of his message.

“They’re from Kylo,” she told Finn shortly.

“Obviously, Rey! But what are they for? And while we’re talking, where did you go last night? One minute you were at the table, the next minute Threepio was telling us you’d left. You missed a lot! Somebody got punched!”

“What?” Rey gasped, completely forgetting whatever Kylo was trying to tell her about Bali. “No!” she cried. “Don’t tell me Kylo punched Hux!”

“What are you… WAIT! Hux?? As in your nemesis? The impetus for your superhero origin story? No fucking way!” Finn exclaimed. “You know, I thought I recognized that pinched-face ginger, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember who the hell he was. Of course, it was Hux! Fuck, Rey, you’ve got to tell me what happened!” he cried, settling himself onto her bed and getting comfortable. He clearly intended to stay for a while.

Rey sat down next to him and said, her brow knit in worry, “So it’s true, then? Kylo punched Hux?”

“Kylo? No. Kylo left a little bit after you did. Han’s the one that punched Hux.”

“What?! HAN?”

“Yeah,” Finn told her, grinning. “You should have seen Leia. She was so mad. Called Han some really choice names and told him he’d ruined her biggest event of the year. But people must really hate Hux because as soon as he was escorted out, donations started flooding in. I even saw a couple of people shake Han’s hand.”

“Oh god!” Rey cried. “Do you know why he did it?” she asked, still trying to process this latest twist. 

Finn shook his head. “All I heard was Han telling Leia, ‘no one talks about my kid that way.’ The names she was calling him got a lot less R-rated after that,” he explained.

Rey’s mouth fell open. Han punched Hux. And not only that, Han punched Hux _over Kylo_. Did Kylo know? Did he care? Did he want to talk to Rey about it?

Before she could even think about reaching out, though, Finn interrupted to ask, “What happened between you and Kylo, Rey? What made you think Kylo was the one who threw the punch?” He sounded concerned, like he was suddenly worried about Kylo’s stability. Nevermind that Han was the one actually throwing punches. It annoyed Rey. Why was everyone so quick to think the worst about Kylo?

“It’s nothing like that, Finn,” Rey rolled her eyes. “Kylo would never hurt me. Or anyone that didn’t deserve it,” she said. As an afterthought, she added, “Probably. But _definitely_ not me.” 

“Then why did you run away from him?” Finn pushed. 

Rey flopped back on her bed and threw an arm over her eyes. “Hux showed up while Kylo and I were looking around the silent auction,” she told him.

“Fuck! And he recognized you?”

“Not at first,” she explained. “At first he was talking to Kylo. Mocking him, really. They seemed to know each other. He only noticed me when I stepped in to, uh, stop Kylo from attacking him. But Kylo was trying to defend me! Hux said that any woman with Kylo must be a golddigger!”

Finn huffed out an uncomfortable laugh. “I guess that explains why you thought it was Kylo that punched him,” he said. “But then what happened when Hux finally recognized you?”

Rey bit her lip, feeling the emotion well up again as she tried to articulate the next part. “He told me that Kylo was using me to get back at him. He said that he had told Kylo about me and that Kylo had obviously just tracked me down and fucked me as some kind of revenge against him.” 

Finn’s eyebrows had gone progressively higher as she spoke. By the end, they were so high they were practically at his hairline. He opened and closed his mouth several times before finally saying, “And you believed him?” 

Rey sat up and turned toward her best friend. “Kylo confirmed it,” she said, her voice cracking. “He admitted that Hux told him all about being a sugar daddy and… me…” She couldn’t help the tear that slipped out on the last word. 

“Oh, Peanut, don’t cry!” Finn said, leaning over to take her in his arms. “Fuck him. Fuck both of them! Er… actually, maybe not the best choice of words.” Rey choked out a laugh. 

Finn pulled back enough to look her in the eye but didn’t let her go. “You’re really upset about this,” he said, sounding surprised. “Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems. Why would he wait so long to sleep with you if it was just about getting revenge against Hux?”

Rey paused. She hadn’t thought about that. She hadn’t really had the clarity to think about anything while she was crying herself to sleep last night. “Because he—Well…” Now that she _was_ thinking, Rey remembered how easily Kylo had agreed to let their physical relationship progress naturally, how willing he’d been to wait until _she_ pushed for more… “Hux probably told him that I wasn’t willing to do pay-for-play.” 

“I guess,” said Finn, not sounding convinced at all, “but then why would Kylo keep seeing you even after he slept with you?” 

“Maybe he… I mean…” she trailed off without answering his question. 

“It doesn’t make any sense. It just doesn’t sound like the behavior of someone looking for a quick fuck to rub in some other asshole’s face,” Finn said. “Did Kylo know that Hux would be at the gala?”

“I don’t know. He seemed surprised, but maybe it was just an act.”

Finn snorted. “Please, Rey. I only spent a couple of hours with the guy and I watched him experience about fourteen different emotions. They're right there on his face. He isn't subtle.”

“Maybe he’s just a really good actor,” Rey suggested.

“You would know, right?” Finn deadpanned.

Rey flinched and pulled away from him. “I’m not doing anything wrong by adopting a persona,” she defended. “It’s what a lot of sugar babies do. Most daddies _want_ a fantasy. And it’s none of his business what I do with the money he gives me.”

Finn sighed. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Rey, and you know it. Of course it’s none of his business what you do with the money, but doesn’t that also mean it’s none of _your_ business why he gives it to you? Anyway, I was talking about the _other thing_ you’re lying about.”

Rey played dumb.

“You’re lying about knowing his family, Rey! Pretending not to know your friends! That’s a bit more than just acting like you love getting designer bags and giving blowjobs! I love you, but I think part of being your best friend is telling you when you’re acting shitty. And right now you’re acting really shitty. You need to tell him about the Resistance.” 

Rey spluttered, “I don’t—! That’s not—! Why do I have to tell _him_? I never told Lando or Casterfo or Voss!” 

“This is different, Rey, and you know it,” Finn said. “You’ve been on edge all week, and I think it’s because you feel guilty about not telling Kylo about Leia and Han. Deny it all you want, but I know you, Rey. I know you’re not gonna be able to keep this up. Not without making yourself sick and miserable.” 

Rey just gaped at him. She thought she’d been doing a good job hiding her feelings, but she should have known better than to try and hide anything from Finn. He was right, of course. This week had been hellish. Every minute spent either with Kylo or thinking about Kylo had filled her with anxiety. She felt like she was constantly on the verge of slipping up and confessing everything—ruining everything! 

“You’re one to talk,” she reflexively lashed out. “You’re keeping Coruscant from Poe!” It was a low blow and she regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

“Actually I’m not,” Finn calmly replied. “Not anymore. I told him all about it last night.” 

“You did?? And?” Rey asked, immediately shifting from defensive mode to supportive best-friend mode. She leaned back into Finn.

“We’re taking some time,” Finn said with a forced smile. “We’ve agreed to take a couple of weeks to think about what we want from the relationship and how me going to Coruscant would impact that. Then we’re gonna talk it all through.”

“Finn,” she fretted, pulling _him_ into _her_ arms.

“We’re not breaking up,” he assured her. “It’s just a quick breather until we figure out how to move forward.” 

“Stop reassuring me,” she hissed in his ear. “I’m supposed to be reassuring you!” After a breath, she told him in her most reassuring voice, “I’m absolutely positive this is just a temporary thing. You two will figure it out and come out the other side even stronger! I've never seen two people more in love!” 

Finn laughed hollowly. “Thanks,” he said. “Don’t think this means I’ve forgotten about Kylo, though,” he warned her. “Whether you want to admit it or not, he's not like your other sugar daddies. This thing you guys have is different, and that means you need to be honest with him about your connection to the Resistance. Or at the very least, you need to break up with him.” 

Rey let out a long breath. “I know,” she finally whispered, hugging Finn tighter.

 

* * *

 

Kylo Ren (🍬daddy)   
  
Rey, I’m so sorry about everything.  
I should have told you about Hux, but I wasn’t sure how.  
It’s true that he told me about you before we met, but I DIDN’T message you because I was trying to fuck with him.   
I don’t fucking care about him.  
I messaged you because I recognized your name from Hux’s ramblings, and I wanted to know the woman who threw a drink at him.  
I know it’s hard to believe, but that doesn’t happen to him that often.   
Fuck Rey, you’re the whole reason I signed up for that stupid website in the first place. I wanted to meet someone like you. Someone who would actually call me out when I was acting like a bastard.  
Like now.  
But the first woman I met like that was THE ACTUAL WOMAN.   
YOU  
Call me back so we can talk about this.  
Or text.  
Anything.  
Please.  
I need another day and then I think we should talk in-person  
Please, Rey. Don’t make any decisions until we’ve had a chance to talk.  
I’ll send a car for you right now if you’ll just come over and let me explain.  
I just need a little bit more time. And my roommate needs me today, anyway. I’m sorry ❤️  
Meet for an early breakfast on Monday, then?  
How about dinner??  
You really can’t meet any earlier?  
I’m sorry! I really can’t!  
Okay, then.  
4:30?  
Oh my god  
this isn’t the right time AT ALL but how am I supposed to read that and NOT make a crack about your age??  
Make the joke, Rey.   
*Jokes  
Make the jokes, Rey.  
4:30?? Are we eating dinner at your retirement community? Are we meeting your bridge partner and trying to get home in time for Jeopardy? Do they stop offering the senior citizen discount after 5?  
Ok. I’m done  
In all seriousness, though, I have class until 6:45. Can we do 7:30?  
I’ll pick you up at 7:30, sweetheart.  


 

* * *

“You should spare Erika Jayne in the Revolution.”

Rey looked up from the reading she was doing to see Finn, his own work long-abandoned in favor of The Real Housewives and a bottle of Kylo’s apology wine. Wine Rey was ninety-five percent sure he had bought at yesterday's auction, and that had originally been in his personal wine collection. It was like a perpetual donation machine. She shook off guilty thoughts about her own effectiveness and turned her attention to Finn. “How many times do I have to tell you?” she said, feigning exasperation. “The Revolution overthrowing capitalism is going to be bloodless.”

“I mean, you say that now, but just wait until you tell Lisa Rinna that she can’t have unlimited lip injections in your new socialist utopia,” Finn said gesturing toward the women on the tv screen. “See how all your noble ambitions pan out then.”

Rey grinned at him, setting aside her book. “Okay, fine, I’ll watch with you,” she said. “Which episode are we on?”

“It’s the vacation episode,” Finn told her, grabbing her a stadium cup and filling it with wine.

“Oh!” Rey replied after taking a sip of her entirely unaerated adult beverage. (Threepio would probably cringe to see such an expensive bottle consumed with such vulgarity!) Maybe if she watched a bunch of wealth- and status-obsessed women humiliate themselves in some far-flung locale, it would cure her of any lingering regret over her almost-vacation with Kylo?

_Wait._

_Hadn’t Kylo said something about Bali in his apology note?_ She’d been too distracted by brain fog and an impatient Finn to fully digest that part of his note this morning, and then she'd forgotten about it. Was he regretful about the lost opportunity, too? 

Rey stood up suddenly and started moving toward her bedroom.

“Rey?” Finn called after her. “Where are you going?” 

“I need to check on something,” she muttered, half to herself and half to Finn. She needed to hurry, before she caught up to Finn's day-drinking and lost this mental clarity. She perched on the edge of her bed, in the shadow of her massive bouquet, and grabbed the note off her bedside table. Finn entered just as she started to reread. “Is that from Kylo?” he asked, moving toward her. “I thought we agreed: no Kylo and no Poe! We’re trying to distract ourselves, remember?”

“Shh,” Rey shushed as she skimmed over the note again. _I’m so sorry… Hux is a fucking prick…_ Rey remembered that part. _I want to try and make it up to you… bid on the trip to Bali… won… not trying to pressure you into anything… even if you decide you can’t forgive me, the trip is still yours… go with your roommate, if you’d like…_

“Oh, fuck,” Rey said.

“What? What is it?” Finn demanded.

“Kylo bought me a trip to Bali,” she told him.

“At the auction? Holy shit! He left way before the auction closed. How much do you think he had to bid for no one to outbid him?”

“I didn’t even think about that! Too much!” she cried, feeling the guilt wash over her. Of course, Kylo could afford it. And the money was going to a very worthy cause, but Rey couldn’t shake her discomfort. He was showering her in apology presents, sincere in his belief that he was the one at fault when… when…

“I’ve got to put an end to this tomorrow,” she said.

 

* * *

 

Rey hadn't been lying when she told Kylo she couldn't meet him before 7:30. She had a full schedule ahead of their dinner, including a meeting with Leia to talk about her capstone project. It was a welcome change from their near-constant discussion of Kylo over the past week. Finally, they were getting back to their other shared passion: combating income inequality. 

As Rey entered the Resistance’s headquarters she was surprised to find Dr. Skywalker skulking by the coffeemaker. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “You!” 

Dr. Skywalker glanced up from the half-dozen sweeteners he was pouring into his coffee to dryly reply, “I can always count on you, Ms. Niima, for a warm greeting.” 

“Er, what I meant to say was, uh, nice to see you again, Dr. Skywalker.” 

“Better.”

“Did you happen to get the email I sent you, thanking you for your help last week?” Rey asked.

“I did,” he said. 

Rey waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she said, “Oh, I was just curious because I hadn’t heard anything back.”

“Yes, well, I worried that if I returned the email, you would feel compelled to email me, thanking me for my response, and then I would have to email you acknowledging your thank you, and then we’d find ourselves in an unfortunate email loop, with neither of us saying anything of substance. Seemed like the better tact to just to head that off and not reply. ”

“Oh, well—”

“Luke! Rey! Good! You’re both here,” Leia called from her office doorway, on the other side of the open workspace. She must have been finishing up another meeting. “We’re meeting in the conference room,” she told them, indicating the glassed-in room near her office. “Get settled and I’ll be there in just a minute.” She turned her attention back to Snap and Jess to finish whatever she had been saying to them before she noticed Rey and Dr. Skywalker.

“You’re here for my meeting with Leia?” Rey asked, surprised. “But, why?”

“Come on, Ms. Niima,” Dr. Skywalker said, ignoring her question. “We shouldn’t leave Leia waiting.”

Rey quickly poured hot water into her mug and grabbed a tea bag, before following him into the conference room. 

They sat in silence as Rey steeped her tea and connected her laptop to the projector. She’d made a whole Powerpoint presentation for Leia—and Dr. Skywalker, apparently. Rey glanced over at the aging man, sipping on his too-sweet coffee. Just as she was about to again ask why he was sitting in on this meeting, Leia strode into the room, her usual air of confidence on full display.

“Thank you both for coming,” she started right away. “Rey, you know Luke, of course. After you two met at that conference, Luke reached out to ask me about you and your project. I obviously told him how amazing you are and how much you’re doing for the Resistance. But before I could even begin to pitch him on the idea of getting involved with your project, he asked me to join your team.” 

“Really?” Rey said, turning from Leia to Dr. Skywalker and back again. 

“Well, I suppose I can’t hide in my ivory tower forever,” Dr. Skywalker grumbled. “Not when starry-eyed upstarts are always hunting me down at conferences.”

“Yes, Rey, really,” Leia said, rolling her eyes at her brother. “It’s still your project. You’re still in charge. Just think of Luke as an expert consultant. He’ll be here to answer any questions you might have and to offer advice. Solicited, of course,” she added.

“Thank you!” Rey said, a bit awed that the peerless (if grumpy) academic would want to help with her project. Especially after the way he had dismissed her at the conference reception. At what point had his dismissal turned into professional interest? Was it when she was screaming in the middle of a parking garage? Or maybe when she was crying to him about car dents? 

Suddenly—

“Leia’s in a meeting,” they heard someone (Poe?) practically shout from outside the conference room. “She’s not available to see you right now. What was your name again?!” 

_Why was Poe yelling like that?_

“Ren, Kylo Ren. We sat together at the gala. You didn’t seem to have a problem remembering my name then.” 

Rey, Leia, and Dr. Skywalker all froze at the sound of Kylo’s voice. _What was he doing here? What possible reason did Kylo Ren have to be at the Resistance on a Monday afternoon? Was this a normal thing? Kylo just dropping by? Why hadn’t anyone warned her??_

_Maybe, if they all stayed very still and quiet, he wouldn’t notice them and everything would be okay._

“Rey??” Kylo said, staring at her through the glass and immediately dashing all hope. “What are you doing here? With my mom? And UNCLE LUKE??”

_Oh god, he was coming in._

“Hello, Ben,” Dr. Skywalker said, sounding unaffected by his nephew’s intrusion. Rey, though, had seen the panic in his eyes the moment he’d registered Kylo’s voice. Not that she was one to talk; she was practically cowering under the table at this point.

“Ben,” Leia said, keeping her voice even and clearly trying to maintain control over the room. “What are you doing here? You’ve never come to the Resistance.”

“I—” Kylo flushed. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger, Rey wasn’t sure. “I left work early and I thought I’d see if you wanted to get lunch. What the fuck is she doing here? And him?? What the fuck is going on?”

“Language, Benjamin,” Leia scolded. “This is our place of work.” 

“Our?” he demanded, honing in on Rey again.

“Rey is not technically a paid employee, if that’s what you’re asking,” Leia explained, glancing between Rey and Kylo. “She’s an intern receiving college credit and a regrettably small stipend. We’re working on increasing it, since, of course, unpaid internships are exploitative and a barrier for many lower-income students to—”

“I don’t give a fuck about your internship program,” Kylo said, never breaking eye contact with Rey. “I’m talking to Rey.” 

“I donated the stipend,” Rey offered, unsure what else to say. 

Kylo huffed a scathing laugh. “Yeah, I can see that. Who needs a stipend when you already have a sugar daddy you can leech off of?” Rey felt like she’d been slapped.

“Nope, not happening,” Leia interrupted, her voice firm and commanding. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you talk to her like that. You were taught better. If you want to talk to her, you can try again when you’ve calmed yourself down—”

“Leia,” Rey interrupted. “It’s fine. He has a right to be angry.”

Kylo opened his mouth to say something, but Leia cut him off. “Nobody has a right to express their anger by lashing out,” she told the room. “What did Dr. Kenobi teach you?” she said, turning to just Kylo.

Kylo narrowed his eyes but took a couple of slow breaths before continuing. “I have a _real_ therapist, now, mom. I don’t need to fall back on breathing exercises taught to me in childhood by a quack like Kenobi.” 

“Dr. Kenobi was a licensed clinical social worker,” offered Dr. Skywalker. “His PhD was in sociology. He was anything but a quack.” 

“Luke, you’re not helping,” Leia chided. 

“Neither are you,” Kylo cried, exasperated. “I’m just trying to talk to my girlfriend—er, Rey—and you keep interrupting!”

“I’m still not clear what you’re even doing here, Ben,” Leia frowned at him. 

“I—” he glanced at Rey, “I was upset because Rey and I are fighting, okay? I couldn’t focus on work, so I left to see if maybe my mom had some advice on how I could make things up to her. But the joke’s on me, I guess! What is this? Some kind of meeting to plot against me?”

“You were always so paranoid, Ben,” Dr. Skywalker said, shaking his head sadly. 

“Kylo, let’s just go somewhere and I can explain,” Rey pleaded with him, getting up and grabbing his hands. It wasn’t lost on Rey that they were the same words Kylo had offered her again and again on Saturday night.

“Good.” He glared down at her, “because I would really fucking like an explanation!” 

“Rey, are you sure you’re comfortable being alone with Ben?” Leia interjected.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s not a monster, Leia! He’s not going to hurt me!” Rey cried out. Leia and Dr. Skywalker just stared at her, surprised by the intensity of her outburst. “Kylo deserves an explanation! Can we—is there any way we could reschedule this meeting for another day?” she asked, letting go of Kylo’s hand long enough to wipe at the traitorous tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I—yes, of course,” Leia immediately agreed, looking chastened after Rey’s show of emotion. “Luke?”

“I’ll make it work,” Dr. Skywalker finally grunted.

“Thank you,” Rey said, moving to pack up her laptop.

“You can talk in my office,” Leia abruptly declared. Her brow was furrowed and she was looking past Kylo and Rey to the entirety of the Resistance’s workforce, very obviously eavesdropping just outside the glass. “It has actual walls, at the very least. It’ll give you some privacy.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” Rey said, at the same time Kylo said, “I think we should go somewhere far away from here.”

“I insist,” Leia said, the firmness returning to her voice. “Luke and I were going to meet Han for lunch, anyway, so you’ll have it to yourself. And frankly, I would feel better knowing there are people nearby. I’m not saying anything is going to happen," she said, cutting Rey off before she could protest, "but, well, just humor me."

“Fine,” Kylo grunted, stomping toward her office. 

Rey made to follow and Leia held her back. “Rey,” she told her, “I’ll tell Poe to stand by.”

 

* * *

 

“What the fuck, Rey?” Kylo said, as soon as she closed the door to Leia’s office. The anger she had seen on his face in the conference room had all but faded and now all she saw was… hurt.

“I can explain,” she said.

“How long has this been going on,” he demanded. “Fuck, was this just a game to you? Have you and my mother been planning this the whole time? With Luke? Is everyone in on it? Have you all just been laughing at me behind my back?” 

“No!” Rey cried. “No! I’ve only known that Leia is your mom for a week!!” 

“You’ve known for a _week_? And you didn’t say anything?”

“Kylo!” She tried to laugh, but couldn’t quite manage it. “You were just asking me if I’d known the whole time…”

“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that you work for my mother,” he said, cycling at lightspeed between anger and sadness and shock. “You knew her at the gala! You probably knew everyone!” His eyes flashed dangerously. “And you still made me grovel over Hux!” 

“I never asked you to grovel! And I was going to come clean about it all at dinner tonight, I swear,” Rey insisted, panicking even as she watched Kylo spiral into his own panicked state. “just let me explain.” 

“I—Fuck!” he yelled, burying his face in his hands. He was crying. Kylo was crying! Rey rushed forward but hesitated once she was standing in front of him. Would touching him make things worse or better? Before she could decide, Kylo made the decision for her, pulling her into his lap and kissing her messily on the mouth. 

She kissed him back a few times before pulling away. “We should talk,” she gasped. 

“Then talk,” he said, moving his lips to her neck, his kisses wet and frantic. 

“I got involved with the Resistance through Poe,” she said as he continued to maul her neck. “Years ago. He’s—oh!—dating my roommate, Finn.”

“Of course. Finn your roommate and Finn from the gala are the same Finn,” Kylo murmured, pawing at her shirt.

“I don’t really think this is helping,” Rey said pushing his hands away from her breast and carefully extracting herself from his lap. “We’re in your mother’s office,” she panted, “And we need to keep our heads clear.” 

Kylo scowled at her like she was rejecting him and not just being a reasonable person. “Say what you have to say, then,” he pouted.

Rey walked around to Leia’s chair, putting an entire desk between her and Kylo, and steeled herself to begin again. “Like I said, I didn’t know you were Leia’s son when we met, even though I'd been working for the Resistance for a while. I knew Leia had a son, but I didn’t know you were him. I had no idea until a week ago,” she emphasized again. 

Kylo was working his jaw as she spoke, a dead giveaway that he was still agitated. Her explanation hadn't mollified him. She continued, “While I was at my conference, someone dented your car. Dr. Skywalker, he was the keynote speaker at the conference—” Kylo made a face that Rey ignored “—he was there. I'd told him I worked for Leia, so he suggested asking Han for help fixing the dent. While Han was working on the car, he happened to notice your registration in the glove box. He was the one who figured it out: the car belonged to his son. You. Ben Solo,” she said. 

“I’m not Ben Solo,” Kylo forced through his clenched teeth.

“But you’re Han's son,” she gently insisted. “I wouldn’t really blame you if you didn't believe me, but I’m telling you the truth. I really had no idea until last Friday. Ask Han. Ask Leia. Ask Finn! They’ll all tell you that it's not a conspiracy. None of us knew about the connection.” 

“You’re asking me to ask your accomplices,” Kylo spat.

“I’m asking you to ask the people who raised you or the most trustworthy person I’ve ever met!” she cried back at him.

“People who looked me in the eye _two days ago_ and pretended like they had no idea who you were,” he angrily retorted. 

“Don’t blame this on them. Leia and Han both wanted me to tell you… eventually. Same with Finn. But I wasn’t sure I needed to. Sugar relationships are supposed to be simple,” she said with a huff. “They don’t have complications like the sugar baby suddenly knowing your entire family—”

Kylo leaned forward. “I told you from the beginning that I was looking for something without games! That I wanted everything out on the table!”

“And I was trying to give that to you!” 

“That’s the thing, Rey,” he said, falling back against his chair. “I wasn’t looking for something that _seemed_ that way. I was looking for something that _was_ that way." Kylo leaned forward again. "What the fuck are you even doing sugaring? If you’re such a believer in my mom’s dogma, why do you even care about designer dresses and expensive wine?”

Rey bit her lip and resolved not to hold back. Not now. “Because I resell them,” she admitted. “I’ve been doing it since Hux. After I saw the way he just throws money around, like it's nothing to him, I couldn't stop thinking about all the good that could be done with it. So I decided I'd put it to good use for him. Well, not him, specifically. Even I have my limits. But men like him. I get a daddy and then I take all the money he gives me and I give it to a good cause. If he gives me any gifts, I resell them and I give that money away too.” 

Kylo gaped at her. “So everything I’ve given you…?”

“… Has gone to the Resistance. Yeah.” 

“Then what the fuck are those doing on your feet?” 

Rey looked down at the red-laced boots that had become her everyday footwear over the last few months. “Everything except the boots,” she amended. “And a couple bottles of the wine you sent yesterday.” She flushed. “After I realized you bought me the Bali trip, I might have tried to drown my guilt in alcohol, which you also bought me.”

“But why the boots?” Kylo asked.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to resell them after I wore them on our hike.” 

“That’s it?” 

“Yes,” she said. He kept staring at her like he didn't believe her. “And… because I like them, okay? They might be the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever been given. By anyone! Not just a sugar daddy. You barely even knew me, but you listened,” she told him, her annoyed tone at odds with her words. But she was feeling vulnerable. Exposed. She was afraid that without a mask of exasperation she might cry, and crying was the last thing she wanted to do right now in front of Kylo. He would probably accuse her of crying crocodile tears... "Granted, they’re also ten times more expensive than any other pair I’ve owned," she continued, really leaning into the emotional deflection. 

“Come here,” he told her, his voice softer than it had been in a while. Rey hesitated. “Come _here_ ,” he said again, more insistently.

Rey got up and moved toward him. He pulled her into his lap again. “Look, I believe you,” he told her quietly. 

“What?” she squeaked.

“I believe what you’re telling me. It explains a lot, actually. I never could square your hatred of expensive shoes with your love of every other luxury item. And you talk about being a capitalist like you’re Mr. Monopoly,” he said, looking her in eyes.

“But… aren’t you mad?” she prodded—because she was a masochist, apparently.

“About you lying about knowing my family? Furious,” he admitted. “It’s not just about the lying, either. My mom knows I’m a sugar daddy; how am I supposed to deal with that?” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “But about you giving all my money to her charity? Not particularly. It’s a better motivation than mine, at least. I went on that website because I had some vague idea about meeting the woman from Hux’s story. You signed up thinking you would make the world a better place. Even if it was all based on a flawed ideology, I guess it’s almost… noble?” 

“Han said you’d resent that your money was going to the Resistance,” Rey told him. 

Kylo dropped his head to her shoulder and grumbled in a decidedly Han-like way. Rey decided not to mention the resemblance. “Han doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about,” he said. “He doesn’t know me. I might not share all my mom’s ideals, but why would I resent her for having them? Maybe I used to when I was an angry kid, but… not for a while. Han doesn’t have a fucking clue.”

“He also told me not to hurt you,” Rey gulped.

Kylo lifted his head and gave Rey a sad smile. “We were always going to hurt each other, though,” he said. “You finding out about Hux was inevitable. And me finding out about your… various omissions was also inevitable.”

“I kept thinking I could just end our arrangement if things got too complicated. That’s what I’ve always done in the past.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his eyes widening. “To end things?”

Rey reached up to touch his cheek. “Not really?” she told him, hedging a little with her questioning tone. “Do you want to?” she asked, biting back the inexplicable panic she was feeling at the thought.

“I should, right? Because you lied? What you did at that gala was fucked, Rey.” Rey tried to move her hand, but Kylo held it in place with his own. “But I don’t want to,” he admitted. “Why should I make myself unhappy just to punish you? Instead, I think we should renegotiate.”

Rey’s relief that he wasn’t ending things was short-lived. “What do you—what did you have in mind?” she asked, nervously.

“No more fucking lying, for one,” he growled at her.

Rey tensed. She understood why what she had done at the gala had been wrong, but she still didn’t really feel that bad about all her other omissions. Those had been about boundaries, about maintaining emotional distance within her arrangements. Yes, some of those boundaries had been blurred with Kylo—were being blurred, right now—but that didn’t mean she was ready to give them up for good. The whole point of her sugaring in the first place had been so she didn't have to deal with all the feelings involved in a vanilla arrangement. “I’m not good at… opening up,” she told him.

Kylo frowned. “You’re talking to a man who created an entirely new identity, just so he could distance himself from his past life.”

 _Oh_. Rey hadn’t really thought of it that way, but Ben Solo turning himself into Kylo Ren really _wasn’t_ that different from Rey adopting a persona as a sugar baby. 

Kylo’s brow creased in thought. “What if I gave you an out? No lying, but if you don’t feel comfortable opening up about something, you can just tell me and I’ll drop it? And you don’t have to pretend to want presents, anymore; if you think I should donate more money to charity just tell me and I’ll probably do it. Although, since I already gave my mom a disgusting amount of money for that trip to Bali, maybe we can consider alternative charities for a while?” He smiled shyly at her.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice sounding pained. “Why not just find a different sugar baby who’s less trouble?” 

“Don’t you get it yet, Rey?” he asked squeezing her waist and giving her one of his signature intense stares. “I don’t want another sugar baby. I want you. And I’ll take you however you’re willing to give yourself to me.” 

It didn’t sound fair to Rey. Kylo was rich, dead sexy, and, despite what everyone seemed to think, a generally good person. She didn’t understand why he would want to invest in someone like her. A nobody who couldn’t possibly return his level of affection. Who had lied to him. Gotten other people to lie to him.

But she also didn’t feel like she was misleading him anymore. Everything really was out on the table now. Her scheme. Her connection to his family. Her problem with being vulnerable. And he still wanted her.

Rey would be an idiot to say no.

“It’s a deal,” she told him, leaning in to seal it with a kiss.

 

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, a knock at the door interrupted them before they thoroughly defiled Leia’s office.

“Er, Rey?” Poe said as he opened the office door, prompting Rey and Kylo to break apart. Thankfully, they were both fully clothed, but very obviously rumpled. Poe continued, “Leia told me to come in if I heard any suspicious noises and, well, we can all hear you moaning…”

Rey buried her face in Kylo chest, too embarrassed to meet her friend's eye. "Sorry," she mumbled into Kylo's shirt, feeling his silent laughter beneath her. It felt nice being casually pressed up against him like this. Safe. But a persistent voice in the back of her head whispered that it wouldn't last.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Finn are watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, because sometimes you just need to turn off your brain and make fun of "rich" people. If you need a visual of the cast, click [HERE](https://www.bravotv.com/the-real-housewives-of-beverly-hills/about). 
> 
> Here's some [further reading](https://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2012/05/unpaid-internships-bad-for-students-bad-for-workers-bad-for-society/256958/) if you're interested in learning more about the problems with unpaid internships.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo have their first date, post-revelations. It's not smooth sailing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it's been so long since I updated and I'm so sorry! I don't have any particularly good excuses, except to say I've had a massive case of writer's block and a self-confidence problem!
> 
> I'm going to get sappy for a minute and quickly thank all the people who encouraged me and convinced me that this story was worth continuing, if only because it will feel so good when I finish, especially SituationNormal, AudreyFanForever, Slipgoingunder, Animal, BlessMyCircuits, and Anisky.
> 
> Shoutout to K8 and SituationNormal for the beta!
> 
> And the chapter count has gone up by one. 😅
> 
> ***
> 
> Okay, this chapter picks up immediately after the previous one, so...
> 
>  **Previously, on Take from the Rich** :
> 
> (Kylo found Rey at the Resistance Headquarters, meeting with Leia and Luke. Rey's secrets were all spilled. Kylo and Rey talked [and yelled and kissed] through things in Leia's office, and committed to moving forward with their arrangement, with a few modifications.) 
> 
> _Fifteen minutes later, a knock at the door interrupted them before they thoroughly defiled Leia’s office._
> 
> _“Er, Rey?” Poe said as he opened the office door, prompting Rey and Kylo to break apart. Thankfully, they were both fully clothed, but very obviously rumpled. Poe continued, “Leia told me to come in if I heard any suspicious noises and, well, we can all hear you moaning…”_
> 
> _Rey buried her face in Kylo chest, too embarrassed to meet her friend's eye. "Sorry," she mumbled into Kylo's shirt, feeling his silent laughter beneath her._
> 
> _It felt nice being casually pressed up against him like this. Safe. But a persistent voice in the back of her head whispered that it wouldn't last._

Poe was still standing in the doorway watching them when Rey finally looked up from Kylo’s chest. When she met Poe’s eye she was surprised to find not the teasing smirk she had been expecting after he walked in on them, but something more unsettling. It was like he was studying them. Like he was a scientist observing mating patterns and he’d just witnessed something to upend his hypothesis.

_The female of the species appears to be displaying signs of genuine affection toward her mating partner, a trait previously unobserved in the subject, despite years-long study and several previous partners…_

Rey fidgeted, feeling very uncomfortable under Poe’s unexpected scrutiny. “Sorry,” she muttered, climbing off of Kylo’s lap.

Poe smirked and Rey wondered for a minute if she’d just imagined his more serious expression. “Don’t get me wrong, it was very entertaining,” he told them, “but Leia just texted to say she’s on her way back to the office, and I assumed you didn’t want _her_ walking in on anything.”

Kylo choked.

“That’s what I thought,” Poe laughed. “They just left, though, so you have a few minutes to, uh, calm yourself down before they get here.” He looked pointedly at the tent in Kylo’s lap, visible now that Rey was no longer straddling him.

“Fuck,” Kylo muttered, getting up and turning his back to them, presumably to tuck himself in and coax himself down. 

“She was actually surprised you were still here,” Poe continued, addressing Kylo’s back. “But since you are, she wants you to wait for her.” 

Kylo groaned.

Rey wasn’t feeling that great about it either. She and Kylo still had a lot of “making up” to do, and a chat of any length with his mother would certainly impede that. 

She turned to Kylo and leaned up to whisper in his ear, too low for Poe to overhear, “Or maybe we could just go somewhere and… finish what we started?” 

Kylo glanced down at her, his eyes flashing with interest and a smile playing around the corner of his mouth. “Oh?” he said. “What did you have in mind.” 

Both of their apartments felt too far away and Rey wasn’t the type monopolize a public restroom… “You have your car, right?” she said, briefly glancing over her shoulder to check that Poe wasn’t eavesdropping. He was. Or, at least, he’d been trying to before Rey caught him and he backed up in shame. She lowered her voice even further. “I’ve always thought your backseat looked roomy…” 

Kylo went very still and Rey wondered if she’d finally scared him away. She’d be surprised if this was his line, but maybe he was the type of man that was quick to forgive elaborate deceptions and fine with hooking up in his mother’s office but who drew the line at car sex… Everyone had their hangups, she guessed.

But just as Rey was about to play it off like she’d only been joking, Kylo grabbed her hand and turned them both to face Poe. “We’re going,” he announced.

“Wait, but what about Leia—” 

Kylo ignored him and broke toward the door, tugging a giddy Rey alongside him.

“Thanks, Poe! And sorry again,” Rey hurriedly offered as they pushed out of Leia’s office and into the wider headquarters. She cringed as she realized the only exit was across a roomful of her colleagues, colleagues who now knew exactly what she sounded like while in the throes of passion. As Kylo marched her across the room Rey tried to avoid as many eyes as possible, but she couldn’t resist glancing up at Rose. She was too curious to see her friend’s reaction to her cavorting with the enemy.

Rose, however, was totally engrossed in her work, a pair of over-the-ear headphones firmly situated over her glossy black hair. (Rey hoped they’d blocked out her and Kylo’s audio porn.) It wasn’t until Rey was practically next to her that Rose finally looked up. “What are you still doing here?” she cried in surprise, pulling the headphones off her ears. “I thought you’d left ages ago. Don’t you have class?”

“Shit,” Rey said, dropping Kylo’s hand and coming to an abrupt halt. “What time is it?” 

Rose glanced at one of her computer monitors. “Ten to two,” she said.

“SHIT,” Rey said again, this time with greater feeling. She looked over at Kylo, impatiently hovering nearby. “I forgot about my class.” 

“Skip it,” he growled at her.

“I can’t,” she told him mournfully. “It’s a seminar. There are only eight people in the class and participation—”

“Rey,” Kylo said, a desperate look suddenly taking over his long, handsome face.

“Kylo,” she responded, “I don’t have any choice! But… we still have dinner plans tonight!” she said, suddenly remembering. 

He shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths before gritting out through his teeth, “Fine. Dinner.” His expression softened. “Can I at least drive you to class?” 

“Campus is only a five-minute walk, Ben,” interjected Leia in her unmistakable rasp. “It would take _longer_ if you drove her.”

Rey jumped and Kylo’s back stiffened at the sound of Leia’s voice. Neither of them had even noticed her return, completely unaware of her presence until the very moment she started talking. It was unsettling.

“You’re back,” Kylo deadpanned, keeping his gaze directed at Rey. 

“I am. And just in time, by the looks of it. Didn’t Poe tell you I wanted to speak to you before you left?”

“He might have mentioned something like that,” Kylo hedged, still refusing to look him mom directly in the eye. It was surprisingly petulant for a 32-year-old man.

“Welcome back, Leia,” Rey interrupted, deciding at least one of them should display some manners. She immediately regretted it. It wasn’t that Leia’s gaze was unfriendly, exactly, but there was something decidedly stern about it. Rey shrank under its weight, suddenly feeling like a child caught misbehaving. And maybe she had been misbehaving, aiding and abetting Kylo’s escape before Leia had a chance to speak to him. But did Leia know that? 

“Thank you, Rey,” the older woman told her before turning the full power of her gaze on her son. “Please say goodbye to Rey before you make her late for her class,” she told him. “And then meet me in my office so we can chat.” Despite the inclusion of a “please,” her tone brokered no argument. 

“Fine,” Kylo agreed stiffly.

Leia smiled and moved smoothly toward her office. “Have a good class, Rey,” she offered right before shutting the door. 

Kylo sighed. “She’s right. I don’t want to make you late,” he told her, his already pouty lips looking even poutier as he glanced in the direction of his mother’s office. 

Rey tried not to think about all the things she wished those lips were doing to her just then. “Hey,” she said, trying to draw his attention back to her. “I’ll see you tonight,” she reminded him. 

“Tonight,” he repeated, happily meeting _her_ eye. 

As they looked at one another, Rey suddenly felt desperate to tell him all the things she’d been planning to say in the car. Especially, how sorry she was and how much she wanted to make it up to him; sentiments she thought would have been much better expressed while wrapped around his thick—

“You really should get going,” Kylo interrupted. “I don’t want you to lose out on those participation points.” 

“Right,” she said, shaking herself out of her inappropriate fantasy and stepping toward the door. “I’ll call you when I get out of class.” 

“We can talk more then,” he said. 

“Talk? Oh, right. Talk,” Rey said as she pushed the main door open. 

“BENJAMIN! Don’t you dare sneak out—” was the last thing Rey heard before the door shut behind her. 

She thought about how perfectly clear Leia’s voice had sounded, despite coming from inside her closed office, the entire walk to class.

 

* * *

 

_“It’s me. You’re obviously still in class. I was hoping I would catch you on a break of something… Look, I’m calling because I don’t think I’m up for dinner tonight. Talking to my mom, I just… well, I’m really tired. And I have a lot of work to catch up on since I left early today. Don’t worry, I’ll still give you something for your time. I don’t want you to feel jerked around just because I’m canceling. Anyway, text me when you get this. Goodnight, Rey.”_

 

* * *

 

_“Hey, I know you said to text, but I wanted to make sure everything was okay. You sounded kind of weird in your message…? Is something wrong? Anyway, please call me back… Oh! Please don’t pay me for tonight, Kylo. Even if you hadn’t canceled, I wasn’t expecting anything. That wasn’t what tonight was about… at all. I thought you knew that. Anyway, talk to you soon… I hope.”_

 

* * *

 

They didn’t talk soon. In fact, they didn’t talk at all for the rest of the week. Rey would have thought Kylo was ignoring her, with the number of times he’d sent her to voicemail, except he kept texting.

The texting was fine, but she couldn’t shake the feeling Kylo was trying to put distance between them. So soon after their fight at the Resistance, she worried about what it meant. Had he changed his mind about forgiving her and moving forward?

By late Thursday night, Rey had been so desperate to hear his voice, she’d tried to tempt him into phone sex, but he hadn’t even bothered to reply to her salacious images until the next morning. 

Sure, when he finally did reply, he’d sent pictures of his own, _very_ clearly communicating his continued interest (read: dick pics), but Rey had been hoping they’d get off together! Instead, he’d apparently slept soundly before waking up and wanking off to her, while she’d fallen asleep embarrassed and sexually-frustrated, thinking her sugar daddy had finally realized she wasn’t worth the trouble. 

Adding insult to injury, unlike Kylo, Rey hadn’t had enough time in the morning to take care of the lingering itch between her thighs. She had to go to class and her internship without any sort of relief!

Thank God, they were finally meeting up in-person that evening. Rey was determined to finish what they had started in Leia’s office so many days prior. Make-up sex was a thing for a reason, right? Even deferred make-up sex. It was like a reset button after a fight. All they had to do was use each other and they’d both feel a lot better. All the residual weirdness between them would just disappear. 

At least, that’s what Rey told herself as she walked into Maz’s.

Kylo was already there, sitting at the bar, a tumbler of something amber-colored in his hand. 

Rey frowned at the nearly-empty glass. “Have you been waiting very long?” she asked as she sat down beside him. 

“Huh?” he replied, a delayed reaction. “Oh, no. Not long. Just a few minutes,” he said before lifting his drink to his lips and finishing it off. He motioned to Maz for another. 

Rey’s frown deepened. She thought they were just grabbing a quick drink before heading back to Kylo’s apartment, but Kylo looked like he was settling in. 

“Um, how was your week?” she asked, trying to push back the anxious feeling currently rising in her chest.

“Busy,” he said, staring blankly at his empty glass. Rey waited for him to elaborate. It took a minute, but he eventually seemed to notice her waiting. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m distracted. I’ve been distracted all week,” he said, reaching out a hand to rest on her knee. “How are you? I’m really glad you’re here.” 

“Are you?” she asked, a note of genuine surprise in her voice. 

“Of course I am!” he told her, pulling back his hand. “Why would you ask me that?” 

“I don’t know. It’s just… you canceled our dinner on Monday and then we didn’t talk all week. I thought maybe you were still mad at me?” 

“What are you talking about? We talked every day.” 

“We texted. We never talked.”

“It’s the same thing,” he insisted halfheartedly. 

It wasn’t the same. And Rey knew Kylo didn’t really think it was, either. When they first started seeing one another, Rey had tried to keep their communications to text and email, but Kylo had insisted on phone calls. Despite technically being a millennial, he somehow enjoyed talking on the phone. He claimed it felt more real than texting.

Rey had gone along with it because Kylo was paying her so much; she felt like he deserved the authentic girlfriend experience. And eventually, she’d even started to kind of… maybe… enjoy their conversations. (As well as their _other_ phone-related activities.) So it was a little absurd to hear him suddenly claiming they were the same thing. 

She opened her mouth to point out this hypocrisy, but before she could, Maz appeared, placing a fresh tumbler of something in front of Kylo and a margarita glass in front of Rey. 

“Maz, I didn’t order this,” Rey said, blushing at the margarita’s elaborate garnish and _two_ paper umbrellas, an embarrassing contrast to Kylo’s very sophisticated drink. 

“I know,” the older woman said with a wink, “But I thought you might need it. I even used the top-shelf tequila, for once. And I remembered how much you like the little cocktail umbrellas—”

“Maz—” Rey tried to interrupt.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she continued, oblivious to Rey’s embarrassment. “I put it on _his_ tab.” She gestured at Kylo.

“I was obviously planning to pay for her drinks,” snarled an offended Kylo. “You don’t have to sneak it onto my bill.”

Maz leaned over the counter, lowering her coke bottle glasses to better glare at Kylo. “Oh, obviously?” she asked. “She’s already been here for fifteen minutes and you haven’t once asked her if she wanted anything.”

“I—” Kylo began, but Maz pointedly ignored him in favor of Rey. “How about something to eat, child? I know how much you like my mozzarella sticks. His treat. Heaven knows he could probably use a little something to soak up all that alcohol.”

Kylo huffed.

“No thank you, Maz,” Rey told her with a strained smile. “It’s, er, not a good night for cheese.” 

“Raincheck, then. Maybe for the next time you come in with that charming and handsome Mr. Storm.” 

Kylo started to cough violently.

 _Maz was such a shit-stirrer,_ Rey thought, rolling her eyes as she slapped Kylo’s back several times. “She’s talking about Finn, my roommate,” Rey tried to explain over the commotion. “Finn Storm.” That seemed to appease Kylo. He soon calmed down enough to accept a glass of ice water from Maz.

“Oh no, did you think I was talking about another sugar daddy?” Maz asked, the picture of faux-innocence as she passed over the glass. “So quick to think the worst of everyone,” she muttered loudly, as she wandered away to insert herself into someone else’s conversation.

Once she was out of earshot, a somewhat chastened Kylo turned to Rey. “I’m sorry,” he offered for the second time that night. “I’m fucking this up.” He put down his ice water and instead reached for the rest of what looked to Rey like a _double _whiskey. _She’d never seen him drink like this.___

____

__

“It’s fine,” she lied, absently sipping from her own drink, even as she side-eyed Kylo’s drinking. _Even Maz had mentioned it. How many had he already had?_ “What were we talking about?” she tried, again opting to just push down her anxiety. 

He set his tumbler on the bar. “You thought I was upset with you?” His apparent confusion was just a touch too performative to be believable. Rey laughed at her past self for ever having wondered if he was just acting. Seeing him obviously fake his confusion now was enough to convince her all his past emotions had been authentic. 

_Or maybe he was just drunk?_ She hoped that wasn’t it. She still had plans for the evening. 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were still a little upset with me,” she told him, looking down at her drink instead of up at him. “After all, we didn’t really have a chance to finish working through things on Monday.” She nervously fingered the watermelon garnish on her margarita before finally just pulling it off and popping it in her mouth. She looked up to see Kylo swallowing thickly, his somewhat glassy eyes focused on her mouth. 

_Oh!_

Rey’s nerves seemed to dissolve under his heavy gaze, and suddenly all she could think about were the many ways she wanted to “work through things” with him. Tonight. She took a long sip of her drink, a pleasant tingly feeling slowly replacing her earlier anxiety. _Maybe the weirdness was all in her head?_

Eventually, Kylo managed to pull his gaze away from her lips and respond. “I’m not upset with you.” 

“Are you sure?" 

“I’m sure,” he insisted. “I don’t blame _you_ , Rey.” 

Rey stilled. There was something about the way he said that last part. Something about his inflection that gave her pause. “So, who do you blame, Kylo?" 

Instead of answering, he picked up his drink. 

“Kylo?” she prompted again. “Did something happen with your mom? Is that why you’ve been acting weird all week?” 

He took a slow sip of his whiskey and then set the glass down. “I don’t want to talk about her,” he said carefully. 

“Why not?” Rey challenged. “Is it because you’re mad at her? Is she the person you blame?” 

“Yes?” he finally said. It sounded like a question. 

“Leia? You blame Leia?” she repeated. 

“Yes,” he said, more confident in his reply this time. “And the Resistance.” 

Rey was quiet for a long time, trying to make sense of his answer. “You blame Leia… and the Resistance… for what happened between you and me?” 

“Yes,” he said, fully committed to his answer now. 

“Um, how?” Rey asked. “Why?” 

Kylo looked up at the ceiling before he began. “We talked about you when I met with Leia after you left for class. She told me things: how she met you, how much money you’d brought into the Resistance, the project you’re currently working on with them. Don’t worry, she was very complimentary. But at some point, while she was talking, it just kind of clicked… You’re all like a cult,” he explained matter-of-factly. “The Cult of the Resistance. And my mom is like the cult leader. You met her when you were young and vulnerable—she told me in how you don’t have any family—” Rey flinched, “—and she convinced you that you could be a part of something, have a place in all this. A whole community of people united under a single philosophy. A single cause. She makes it sound very noble and important. I don’t blame you for being taken in." 

Rey was too shocked by his explanation to interrupt and Kylo continued. “I get it. My mom is very charismatic. And I was never even the focus of all that charisma. She probably thought she didn’t need to waste her time converting me because I was born into. But it never fully took and it _still_ took Snoke years to deprogram me. Or reprogram me? First Order was very cult-like too. So I know what it’s like to be manipulated. Twice over.” 

“Um,” Rey began, struggling to articulate the intense anger she was feeling, anger that entirely displaced the confusing mix of anxiety and lust that she’d been feeling earlier. “How dare you?” she finally managed. 

“What?” Kylo asked, seeming genuinely confused by her negative reaction. 

“How dare you try and gaslight me! Leia did not manipulate me into caring about economic justice. Growing up in the foster care system in a country where every social program is overburdened and underfunded taught me about economic justice. Going to bed with an empty stomach while my asshole of a foster father sold ridiculously expensive art and antiques to much, much richer assholes taught me about economic justice! I was already fully committed to the cause long before I met Leia! How dare you tell me that my thoughts and feelings, backed up by _all_ my graduate research, not to mention a lifetime of research done by your uncle, is just a manipulation!” 

Rey stood dramatically, knocking back her stool. 

“What? What are you doing? What’s happening?” Kylo asked, standing up too. 

“I’m storming out,” Rey replied, gathering up her coat and finishing off her drink. (Kylo already paid for it. She might as well not waste it.) 

“You’re leaving? That’s it? We’re not going to talk about it?” 

“What’s there to talk about, Kylo?” she cried. “You think I’m too stupid to have an independent thought; that somehow it was your mother who convinced me to take all your money and give it to the Resistance. It’s much too clever a plan for someone so young and vulnerable to come up with on their own, right?” 

“I didn’t say that!" 

“You didn’t have to. Everything else you said clearly implied it! Well, I’m not too stupid! You know, when your mother found out about my sugar daddy plan, she tried to talk me out of it! But since I was an adult woman entering into adult relationships, she couldn’t! And when she found out that _you_ were my sugar daddy, she wanted me to tell you! Okay, maybe not before the gala, but eventually! I was the only one who ever planned to lie to you forever! So if you want to be mad at anybody, be mad at me!” 

When Rey finished Kylo was openly gaping at her. And he wasn’t the only one, either. A small crowd had gathered around them, watching with thirsty interest, clearly hoping Rey would cause more of a scene. 

Instead, she shoved her arms into her coat and pushed her way through the vultures, eager to get to the exit. Kylo followed close behind, clearly not concerned with closing his tab. _Must be nice_ , Rey thought pettily. 

“Rey,” she heard him call behind her. 

_We’ve done this before,_ Rey thought, not stopping and not turning around. _A week ago, at the gala._ It was an almost identical scene. Only Rey felt much more righteous anger this time around. 

“Rey, wait,” Kylo said, grabbing her arm just as she pushed through the bar’s entrance and out onto the sidewalk. 

“What, Kylo?” she cried out in exasperation, whirling to face him, his hand still on her arm. “What now?” 

“I think maybe I _am_ still mad at you,” he said, his intense gaze focused on her, his glassy eyes suddenly clear. “And I think I might be for a while.” 

“Good,” she spat back at him, her eyes flinty and narrowed. “Because I’m mad at you now, too.” 

They stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at each other for what felt like a long time. Rey could feel the anger thrumming inside her like a pulse, driving her to action. She wanted to yell or throw a punch or— 

Rey launched herself at Kylo, grabbing either side of his face and pulling him down to press her lips hard against his. 

She’d meant to shock him, but instead, his lips immediately fought back against hers. A battle for dominance that didn’t end, even when Kylo pushed her up against a wall and she wrapped a leg around him. 

“I need to call… my driver,” Kylo panted out between their frantic kisses. 

“Too long,” Rey told him, nipping his lip maybe a little less playfully. “My place. It’s closer. We can walk.” 

It was a shocking proposition. Rey had never had a sugar daddy back to her apartment. Hell, she’d never even given a sugar daddy her real address, always meeting them at bars or restaurants, or, if she really trusted them, having them pick her up and drop her off in front of her building. Gifts were exchanged face to face or sent to a PO Box. Distance was maintained. 

But now, she was pulling Kylo along with her as she covered the few blocks to the place she shared with Finn. 

_Oh god, Finn!_ she thought as they stumbled toward home, unwilling to stop touching and kissing each other long enough to walk normally. _Would he be there? Would he stop her_ , No, she remembered, he’d mentioned something about meeting up with Poe tonight. They were going to reconcile. And since they were meeting at Poe’s place, Rey was sure Finn would just spend the night there. She and Kylo would have the apartment to themselves. 

There was a chance Finn might come home early, before heading to the law library, and find Kylo there, but that was a problem for tomorrow Rey. Tonight she only needed to think about make-up sex with Kylo. 

_Or was this hate sex, since neither of them seemed very likely to give up their anger any time soon? Could you have hate sex with someone you’d already been seeing for a few months? Or was hate sex just for sworn enemies?_

Rey was no closer to an answer when they arrived in front of her building, but she’d also stopped caring right around the time Kylo started sucking the sensitive spot behind her ear. She hurried them up the stairs and into her small apartment before they were arrested for public indecency. 

If Kylo recognized the significance of her inviting him into her space, he didn’t mention it. But the awe with which he regarded every shabby inch of the place, on the short walk from the front door to her bedroom, suggested he saw something of meaning in it. 

When they reached her room, Rey shoved him down onto her bed and climbed on top of him, immediately setting to work unbuttoning his shirt. After her suspiciously potent margarita, it took all of her concentration just to get the button through the hole. 

“Is this a fucking twin bed?” Kylo blurted out just as she freed the first button. 

Rey paused her work to look at him. “Yes,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Not all of us can afford a Los Angeles King or whatever you have.” 

“But a twin?” he asked, the disgust clear on his face. 

_God, he was such an asshole,_ she thought, ignoring him and unbuttoning two more of his buttons. When she finally divested him of his shirt, she ran her hands up and down his chest, reveling in how smooth and firm he felt. He was somehow even better than she remembered. 

“I’m buying you a fucking queen,” he murmured as her hands wandered lower. 

“Kylo? Shut up,” she said, moving her hands to his shoulders and shoving him down until he was lying flat against the bed. She hovered over him and slowly started lifting her top, giving him just a hint of lingerie before lowering it and starting the game all over. He watched her with rapt attention, whining each time she denied him a further peek. When she finally got bored of the teasing, she pulled her top off completely and presented him with an unobstructed view of her tits in a sheer blue demi-bra (another gift from another daddy who never got to enjoy it). 

“Fuck,” Kylo breathed, taking her in. 

“You like them?” she asked, lowering herself down to rub along his— _wait_ —she ground down on him. “Are you not hard right now?” she asked, confused and a little offended he hadn’t liked her striptease. “Are you not into this?” 

“I’m very into this,” he assured her, sitting up. “I probably just need another minute or two.” 

Rey bit her lip and nodded, trying not to take it personally that she was wet and wanting while he was, well, far from it. She climbed off his lap and stood in front of him. 

He pulled her back toward him and rested his hands on her hips. “Maybe you could show me what you have on under these,” he said, hooking a finger through a belt loop on her jeans. 

“Yeah, okay,” Rey said, smirking down at him. 

She took a step back and slowly undid her button and fly, Kylo mirroring the movement from his seat on the bed. Slowly, she started shimmying out of her jeans, trying her best to make it seductive. 

At the first flash of her sheer blue panties, Kylo pulled himself free of his boxer briefs and started slowly stroking, clearly trying to get himself ready for the next phase of the evening. His eyes took Rey in hungrily, but there didn’t seem to be much of an effect on his cock. 

“Fuck,” he said after a few minutes with no progress toward erectness. 

“Let me try,” Rey said, happy to be done with her awkward striptease and lowering herself to knees. She started by pulling his undone jeans and underwear completely off him. Then, she started tonguing the head of his cock, sucking him between her lips only after giving plenty of attention to his sensitive head. Methodically, she bobbed up and down, taking more and more of him into her mouth with each repetition. After several minutes of sucking she was sure he was firmer than when she started. Not fully hard yet, but maybe hardening? She looked up at him hopefully. 

He was looking down at her, his brow crumpled in defeat. 

Rey pulled off with a truly obscene pop and tried to reassure him. “It’s working,” she said. 

“This has never happened to me before,” he told her, his voice thick with anxiety. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

“It’s probably just the alcohol,” she said, remembering how much he’d drunk earlier. “Do you want me to keep going? I really think we can get there if we just go a little longer.” 

They both looked down at his flaccid member. Any progress Rey might have been making seemed to have been lost with his rising anxiety. 

Kylo sighed. “Even if I can get hard enough for us to do anything, I don’t think I’ll be able to cum. I’m sorry, Rey. I know I shouldn’t have been drinking so much, but I just—” he ran both hands through his hair, “—I don’t fucking know how to deal with things. I was upset about my mom and then I was nervous about seeing you… Fuck, I didn’t even know I was still upset with you until you yelled at me that I should be.” 

Rey couldn’t help her sardonic smile. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who had a hard time opening up. “Stop apologizing. Are you upset right now?” she asked, thinking about how her own anger had ebbed significantly. She was still _annoyed_ by the shit he’d said about her “cult conversion”, but it wasn’t the white-hot fury that had been fueling her earlier. 

“Right now I’m fucking embarrassed,” he told her candidly. 

“It’s really not a big deal, Kylo,” she said, standing up and passing him his underwear. “It happens. Anyway, we’ve already waited this long, we can wait a little longer.” 

“Let me eat you out, at least,” he said, his face suddenly filled with determination. 

Rey paused, considering. An hour ago she would have demanded he get her off, but now she was just tired, her angry adrenaline long gone and her post-adrenaline crash here with a vengeance. She shook her head at him. “Maybe we could just cuddle and go to sleep?” she asked nervously. 

Kylo looked up from pulling on his boxers to stare at her. “ _You_ want to cuddle? _You_ want _me_ to stay?” 

His disbelief told her that she hadn’t done a very good job hiding her discomfort with cuddling during any of their previous hookups. She blushed thinking of all the times she’d probably squirmed while locked in his embrace. She tried to shift the focus. “Of course I want you to stay. We always spend the night together.” 

“No, you always fall asleep in my bed after we fuck. This is different. This is _just_ cuddling.” 

“I know. I want that,” she said, surprising even herself with the truth of her words. 

Kylo shook his head in disbelief. “I want it too,” he told her. “But that’s probably a lot less surprising,”

Rey smiled and walked to her dresser, pulling out an old, oversized shirt to sleep in. She reached around to undo the clasps of her bra without thinking and let it fall to the floor. 

“Fucking whiskey dick,” Kylo cursed darkly, staring directly at her naked tits. 

Rey flushed and quickly pulled the shirt over her head. 

“Lay down,” she told him, gesturing to her bed once her shirt was on. He complied, doing his best to fit his oversized frame on her child-sized mattress. Rey climbed in beside him, shifting around until she found a comfortable position pressed directly against him, her legs tangled up with his. The full-body contact wasn’t for any sexy reason (that clearly wasn’t happening tonight), but it was the only hope the two of them had of both fitting on her bed. 

“Put your arms around me,” Rey instructed as she pulled up the sheet and duvet, both barely big enough to cover them. Kylo wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even tighter against his chest. She sighed contentedly. 

“This is nice,” Kylo whispered into the dark of the room. 

Rey hummed her agreement, closing her eyes and relaxing into him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a foster kid?” he said a minute or two later. 

Rey inhaled sharply and her eyes popped open. “It never came up,” she said, as casually as she could. 

“I want us to get to know each other,” he said, murmuring the words directly into her ear. “It sounds like being a foster kid was a really formative experience for you.” Rey softened at what she chose to interpret as his subtle acknowledgment that maybe her life’s mission wasn’t entirely the result of his mother’s manipulation. He continued, “I want to know about that, Rey. And I want to tell you about my childhood, too. Maybe I can explain why I have such a fucking weird relationship with Leia and—” he sighed, “—Han.” 

“Okay,” she whispered, overwhelmed by just how much she wanted to have that conversation with him. 

What the fuck was happening to her? This night was supposed to be about make-up sex or hate sex or whatever kind of sex would put them back to the way they were. Rey had been looking forward to multiple orgasms, but instead, they were here, cuddling like an actual couple, neither of them having even orgasmed. 

And Rey was just fine with it. Had suggested it, even. 

_What the fuck?_

“Okay,” Kylo agreed, squeezing her tightly and forcing her body to relax again. 

“Tomorrow,” Rey added, too tired to talk tonight. “And you should read some of my research. Maybe it will convince you that your mom is right about everything.” 

Kylo chuckled and Rey, pressed up against him, felt the vibration in her own chest. “I’ll read your research,” he told her, “but I’m not promising to change my mind. I do know something about economics, you know? I didn’t just form my opinions out of thin air .” 

“You don’t have to promise,” she said through a yawn. “Just reading the research will change your mind." 

Kylo laughed again. “Goodnight Rey,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“Goodnight, Kylo,” she whispered back before succumbing to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

Rey woke up an hour or two later, hogging the duvet, perched at the very edge of her bed, Kylo’s arm the only thing keeping her from the floor. 

She scooted herself back toward the middle of the mattress, confused about why she was suddenly wide-awake. She’d always been a light sleeper, but the last few years of safety and security had made it easier for her to fall back asleep quickly. 

That wasn’t happening this time.

 _Something_ had woken her. _But what?_

She glanced over her shoulder at Kylo, wondering if maybe he was the cause, but he was sleeping soundly. She felt a dopey smile permeate her face as she saw how peaceful and unburdened he looked in his sleep. _God, he was good looking. She loved—LIKED!—every part of him. Even his drool was endearing._

 _No, it wasn’t Kylo that had woken her._

Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was to be expected that she wouldn’t sleep soundly, sharing a twin bed with someone so massive. She was probably lucky to have been spared the floor. 

Well, since she was up anyway, she might as well brush her teeth. She’d forgotten to do it earlier and she didn’t think she’d be able to fall asleep again with that fuzzy mouth feeling, now that she was aware of it. 

Carefully, she lifted Kylo’s arm off her and slipped out of bed, tiptoeing toward her bedroom door. She opened it just enough to slide out into the hallway and then—

“FUCKING HELL, FINN!” she yelled as she was immediately confronted by the figure of her roommate, sitting rigidly on their couch. 

Rey glanced back through the crack of her door, sure that her outburst had woken up Kylo, but he seemed undisturbed. She could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, nothing like her own frantic breathing. 

“You terrified me!” she hissed into the darkness of the hallway. “Why are you up? What are you even doing here? I thought you were at Poe’s.”

Finn didn’t answer. 

Rey felt the cold finger of dread crawl up her spine as she wandered over to him in the living room. “Is this about Kylo?” she asked anxiously. “Is this some kind of middle-of-the-night intervention because I let him spend the night? How did you even know?” 

Finn still didn’t respond.

Rey was barely breathing when she placed a trembling hand on his shoulder, seriously worried that something was wrong. The touch seemed to wake him from his catatonic state, though. He glanced at her hand and then up at her.

“Finn?” she begged.

He blinked at her a few times. 

“Poe and I broke up,” he finally croaked.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to casually leave this excerpt from Ch. 1 here... 
> 
> _“Let’s just go to bed,” Rey declared when Finn began to snore softly. “We can pick this up another time.”_
> 
> _“Tomorrow. We’ll try again tomorrow,” Poe yawned. He glanced over at his sleeping lover, and a soft, dopey smile permeated his face._
> 
> _Rey looked too, if only to see exactly what had prompted such a goofy expression. Finn was sprawled-out awkwardly on the arm of their couch, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open._
> 
> _Being in love is so dumb, Rey thought. Poe was staring at Finn like he was the human personification of the heart-eyes emoji. Finn was Rey’s very favorite person in the world, but when she looked at Finn all she felt was a vague desire to misuse a can of spray cheese. She could just imagine Finn’s reaction, waking up to a mouthful of the pressurized, processed cheese product…_


End file.
